Untouched
by Michele Marsters
Summary: ALL HUMAN FIC. Buffy is a college freshmen dating popular football star, Angel Douglas. However, their relationship lacks passion, and when he convinces her to visit his family during Thanksgiving break including step-brother, Spike , chaos ensues.
1. Chapter 1

-1Title: Untouched

Pairing: B/S

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Buffy is an 18-year old Freshman at UC Sunnydale and dating the hottest guy on campus, Angel Douglas. Unfortunately, Angel's less-than-fiery ways leave more to be desired in the "untouched" blonde. When Thanksgiving break rolls around and Angel brings Buffy to meet his family back home--including his black-sheep step-brother, Spike--chaos (and a little smut, perhaps?) ensues.

A/N: I'm sorry the first chapter is so Bangel-centric, but it needs to be to set up the plot. I promise it won't last _too _long.

Chapter 1

_Mmmm. _Buffy Summers stretched her legs out against the ice blue comforter and ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair. She smiled at the beefy, attractive man who was sitting at the edge of the twin bed, rubbing her left foot with deft fingers. "This is heaven," she mumbled, wiggling herself up into a seated position. She tugged her foot out of his encompassing position and tossed both legs over his lap.

"What's the matter?" Angel Douglas placed his hand gingerly on her bare kneecap and frowned.

"Nothing--it was nice--I just…" Buffy leaned forward and kissed his smooth cheek, pressing one hand against his muscled bicep. He turned his head, smiling, and kissed her on the lips, lingering for a second before pulling away and smiling plainly at her bright green eyes and full-toothed smile.

"I should probably go." Angel twirled a wavy lock of her blonde hair between his thumb and forefinger before releasing it.

"What? Why? You've only been over for like twenty minutes…" Buffy frowned and jutted out her lower lip. Angel was always leaving just when things got good!

"I know, babe. But I've got practice tomorrow at 7am and I really want to get a good night's sleep." Buffy sighed. _Practice. _Of course. Her boyfriend lived and breathed football. She couldn't really blame him--he _was _the school's celebrated linebacker, a perk she often enjoyed at parties (no cover! Free drinks!) But his dedication to the game also required Buffy to play the role of complacent football girlfriend--a role she often hated. For one thing, she _hated _football. A tonsillectomy was higher on her to-do list than watching a bunch of testosterone-induced men run into each other and grunt.

"But Angel--you could _stay_, you know? Just leave in the morning." Buffy scooted backwards, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and smiled at him suggestively. Angel looked at her softly and brought a hand to her now-blushing cheek.

"Oh baby, it's just not the time. I want it to be special."

_Special? I'm an 18-year old virgin who has been dating the school's most popular guy for seven months--_anytime _would be special! _She felt like shouting. But she didn't. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and pursed her lips.

"I know. I'll see you tomorrow night." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly.

"Sleep tight. I love you, Buffy."

"I love you too, Angel."

And with that, he was gone.

Buffy flopped back onto the extra-long twin bed and frowned. She'd met Angel shortly after graduation, when she'd attended her first college party. The older man had immediately made a bee-line for her at the party, offering her drinks and lathering on the compliments. She'd assumed he was the typical college guy, trying to get her drunk and willing, but he'd been the perfect gentlemen. Without so much as a hug, he'd gotten her number and called her up the very next day. And from then on, it'd been bliss--sort of. Angel took her on romantic dates, always called when he said he would, and made her feel like a princess. But they'd been together seven months without much more than a make out session_--_and even _those _were oft-fueled by alcohol on his part. Buffy had dated in high-school, but it was never serious. It was as if somewhere along the line, she forget to fall in love (and lose her virginity). But now she _was _in love, with the latter part no less solved.

Just as Buffy had resigned herself to a quiet evening grumbling away her misfortune, the door to the dorm room swung open and her red-headed best friend bounded in excitedly.

"Hi, Buffy!"

"Hey, Will."

"What's with the frowny-face?" Willow sat down on her bed and tugged her legs up to her chin.

"Angel."

"Uh-oh…did you guys have your first fight?"

"Nope. No fights. Nothing _else_, either."

"Oooh." Willow nodded understandingly. She'd been the leader of "Buffy Virginity Watch" for the last seven months and had dutifully supported Buffy's efforts to further her relationship with Angel.

"What if he's not attracted to me?" Buffy stood up and walked over to the mirror, peering critically. "Is it my hair?" She pulled her mass of blonde hair into a tight, high ponytail. "Maybe if I looked more like a cheerleader?"

"Of course not! You have nice hair! Beautiful Buffy hair!"

"Then what is it. He's a guy, right? And guys want sex. It's genetic. Unless he's got some sort of genetic mutation--and in that case, what if we had children? Would they be genetically mutated freaks, too? Not that we _could _have children, with all of the non-sex we're having, I just don't--"

"Buffy!" Willow shouted, cutting the blonde off mid-sentence. "Angel's Mr.  
Noble Guy, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but I don't see what that--"

"Maybe he just doesn't want to move too fast."

"But that's my job! I'm the girl! I'm the one who is supposed to complain about my boyfriend having grabby-hands and comprising my purity and what-not. Not the other way around."

"Just give it time. He'll come around." Buffy tossed a pillow directly at Willow's face and she squeaked loudly. "What was that for?"

"Stop being so wise. You're making me sound like a sexed-up college kid."

--

Saturday night, Buffy stood in front of the floor-length mirror in Xander's "apartment" (a name he lovingly used for the basement of his parents house) and admired herself in front of the mirror. "I don't know." She said, tugged at the hem of the short, black dress that barely covered her bottom. Xander's girlfriend stood behind her, smiling brightly.

"I think it looks fantastic. Not as good as it does on me, but a close second!" She assured Buffy.

"Thanks, Anya." Buffy laughed. She was used to her bluntness by now, it barely even fazed her. She turned back to the mirror to admire the dress. It was tight and black, with a low v-neck that gave a view to as much cleavage as she could muster up in her Secret Embrace bra from Victoria's Secret. "This really isn't Angel's style. Do you have anything less….hooker?"

"Take a look." Anya flung open the door to the wardrobe which was stuffed full of her clothes.

"Whoa--where are Xander's clothes?" Anya pointed to a smile section of clothes that couldn't have been more than two inches thick. "Gotcha." Buffy stepped forward and began to thumb through the clothes, finally settling on a dark purple number. She stepped out of the previous dress and tossed it on, the silk floating over her body. She faced the mirror. "Perfect." The dress had a scalloped-hem that grazed her knees and the v-neck fell to a much more suitable place. The dress hugged her curves in a way that was sexy, but classy. Just the way Angel preferred his women (namely, her).

"Well, look at the _Buffster!" _Xander's voice came from behind her as he walked down the stairs leading to the basement.

"Do you like it?" Buffy twirled around, nervously biting her lip.

"You look great. Good job, Anya." Xander grinned. Anya stood behind Buffy, applauding herself. "What's the occasion, Buff? Finally going to look for a guy whose hair doesn't point straight up at all times?" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"_No_, Xander. We're going to a nice dinner."

"And afterwards, they're going to have sweaty, monkey-sex!" Anya said enthusiastically.

"Not that I have _anything_ against sweaty, monkey sex, An," Xander wiggled his eyebrows at his girlfriend, "But _ew! _This is Buffy. We're on a need-to-know basis here. And _that_-" He shook his head, "It something I did _not _need to know!"

--

Buffy walked into the lobby of the ritzy eatery Angel had told her to meet him at. She wasn't surprised at the sight in front of her. The lobby resembled the foyer of a home, complete with an oak staircase winding it's way down to the station where the maitre de was standing. The walls were draped in purple velvet and tea lights lined the room.

"Can I help you?" The maitre de said, his voice a low-whisper.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy said softly, feeling compelled to whisper as well. "I'm meeting Angel Douglas here."

"Ahh." The man nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Follow me." The man led her through a small, dimly lit hallway, stopping next to a side-table covered with flutes of champagne.

"Champagne, miss?" His stretched out his hand, offering up the flutes of the bubbly liquid. Buffy nodded, conveniently forgetting to mention her extreme lack of the age twenty-one. He handed her a flute and she thanked him, tipping the glass to her glossed-lips. "And through here." He led her through a room of tables and through a set of French doors. Buffy gasped when she entered. The room was small, with only one table, two chairs, and a fireplace lighting up the room. Angel was seated at one of the chairs, wearing a suit and clutching a small blue bag.

"Angel!" Buffy said, shocked. "This is amazing." She sat down in the other chair as they were left alone.

"I'm glad you like it." Angel smiled warmly and passed her a plate of salad. "I've already ordered everything, so it will be here soon. And I've got this for you." He passed the bag across the table.

"What is it?"

"Open it." Buffy untied the ribbon on the bag and pulled out a rectangular velvet box. She popped it open to reveal a necklace of tiny pearls.

"Angel--it's beautiful." She pulled the necklace out of the box, admiring it. "Thank you." She slipped it around her neck and fastened it, feeling the cool weight of the pearls slide against her skin.

"You're welcome." He took a bite of his salad. "I have something to ask you." Buffy looked up from her plate.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing over Thanksgiving break?"

"I don't know. My mom has a big gallery thing, so I was thinking of staying here or going home with Willow."

"Well--I was wondering if you'd like to come back home to New York with me." Buffy gasped. Angel _never _talked about his family. All she knew is that his father died when he was very young and his mother had remarried an Englishman and he'd gained a step-brother.

"I'd love to. I can't wait to meet your family." Angel tugged out his well-worn leather wallet and slipped a small photo out, handing it to Buffy.

"This is my mom," his finger grazed over the smiling face of a dark haired woman with porcelain skin. He pointed to a gray-haired man with glasses and a warm smile, his arm slung over the shoulders of his mother. "That's Rupert, her husband. Everyone calls him Giles."

"How funny," Buffy giggled.

"And _that_," Angel pointed to a man with peroxide blonde hair and steel blue eyes, "is my step-brother, Spike."

"_Spike?" _Buffy sputtered. "What kind of name is _Spike?" _

"Who knows. It's really William, but he's been asking people to call him that since he was five."

"Strange. Not that _Angel _is any more normal."

"It's a football nickname. I've had it since Junior High. I was the 7th grade Bobcats saving grace!" Buffy chuckled.

"I love you, _Liam." _She leaned forward and kissed him on the nose. She looked around the room--who cared if he was a little cold physically? He was romantic and thoughtful--and he was taking her home to meet his family. That _had _to mean they were going to get serious soon…..right?


	2. Chapter 2

Liking the story so far? This is a specially edited "M" version written for fanfiction. net. You can read the full version at my website www.bloodcalling.. Enjoy! :)

Chapter 2

"What if they don't like me?" Buffy fretted as she wheeled the green suitcase through the terminal.

"They'll love you." Angel chuckled. "Speaking of…" His gait slowed to a stop as he focused his gaze on a group of three people standing near baggage claim. His mother, Jenny, was just a slip of a woman, with a strong face and neat, dark hair. Her hand was clasped in her husband's, who was dressed in a tweed suit and carried a leather briefcase. The boy on their left could only be Spike, Buffy mused. His platinum hair was slicked back severely and he was dressed in tight, black jeans, a black tee-shirt, combat boots, and a long black leather duster. Buffy also noticed that his fingernails were painted black. Go figure.

Angel waived at the three. Jenny released Rupert's hand and charged forward, jumping into her son's arms.

"Liam!" Buffy stepped forward, releasing her suitcase and waiving shyly at the family. "You must be Buffy!" Jenny reached forward and hugged the unsuspecting girl. "I'm Liam's mother. You can call me Jenny. Please no Mrs. Giles, here!" Buffy nodded and turned her attention to Angel's stepfather, who had just caught up with his wife.

"Hello," he stuck out his hand. "I'm Rupert Giles."

"It's nice to meet you." She shook his hand. Buffy leaned to his right and looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, excuse me," Giles said in a clipped, English tone. "That is my son, Spike." He shot a dangerous look back at his son who shrugged and sauntered forward.

"Angel." He clapped his step-brother on his back and stopped to take in the blonde before him.

_Hot little piece of ass. _The girl standing next to his stepbrother was dressed in a pair of tight-blue jeans and a red long sleeved shirt. Her long blonde hair tumbled down her back. He'd always had a thing for blondes. She smiled coolly at him.

"I'm Buffy."

"_Buffy?!" _He exclaimed, a laugh catching in his throat.

"Is something funny?" She frowned, placing a hand on her hip. Spike found her angered expression incredibly enticing.

"What kind of name is B-Buffy?" He asked, stifling another laugh.

"It's _my _name." She narrowed her green eyes and tossed her sheath of blonde hair over her shoulder. "The way I see it, _Spike, _isn't the most normal a moniker, either."

"Point taken." He lifted his hands, showing his palms in defeat.

"Be nice to the lady, Spike." Angel said, placing a defensive hand on Buffy's lower back.

Buffy followed the group outside where a shiny black car was waiting to take them to their destination. As Angel loaded the luggage into the trunk, Buffy slipped into the backseat. Spike slid in next to her. She eyed him critically.

_If Billy Idol and Satan had a love-child…_

"So, Buffy," Jenny said from the passenger seat. "What is your major?"

"Um," Buffy chewed on her pinky nail nervously, "I haven't really chosen one, yet."

"That's okay. I went through five before I settled." Buffy heard the trunk slam shut and Angel and Giles entered the car. As Giles started the engine, he whipped his head around.

"You kids hungry?"

"Yes!" The three said in unison.

"Excellent. Marguerite has your favorite waiting at home." Jenny promised.

"Marguerite?" Buffy eyed Angel curiously.

"The maid." He mouthed. Buffy swallowed. Her childhood meals definitely did _not _include maids. After her parents had divorced, her mother had spent a lot of time at the gallery. This equaled a childhood of pizza and frozen dinners for Buffy.

"So..Spike," Buffy started, "Where do you go to school?"

"I don't."

"You don't?"

"Spike's in a _band,_" Angel said, a disapproving tone evident in his voice.

"Oh, that's nice."

--

An uncomfortable silence filled the car as it trundled along the highway, finally bringing the group into some suburbs of upstate New York. Spike shifted in his seat, procuring his pack of Marlboros and Zippo lighter from his duster pocket. He pressed the cigarette between his lips and aimed to light it.

"Spike! What have I told you about smoking in the car?" Jenny's angry voice filtered into the back of the car. She reached back, grabbed the cigarette dangling from his lips, and crushed it into her palm.

_"_Hey!"

"Now Spike…I know you're eighteen and I can't tell you _not _to continue with that filthy habit, but don't smoke in the car, please."

"Sorry, Mum." Spike shoved the lighter deep into his pocket.

"Buffy," Jenny continued. "Tell me you don't smoke…"

"Of _course_ she doesn't smoke, Mom." Angel said, patting Buffy on the knee like a child.

"We're here!" Giles announced from the driver's seat, pulling the car into a stretch of driveway longer than Revello Drive. Buffy gazed up at the house in awe. She had never even _seen _a house so huge. She looked over at Angel and smirked--she could easily imagine him growing up in such a home--extravagant, classy, clean-cut. She glanced to her other side at the slouched figure of Spike Giles. She definitely could _not _picture him in this "Barbie Dream House". He seemed much more 'dirty pub' than 'distinguished mansion'.

As the car rolled to a stop, Angel slipped out and went around to the trunk to grab the luggage.

"Spike!" Mr. Giles shouted.

"Yeah?"

"Will you take Buffy inside and give her the tour while Angel and I carry in the bags?"

"Spose' so, Da." Spike rolled his blue eyes and grabbed Buffy by the elbow, dragging her out of the car and in the front door.

"Ow!" Buffy tugged her arms away from Spike's grasp. This guy was infuriating!

"Well, come on then--" Spike beckoned her through the foyer. "This is the dining room, living room, kitchen, library…" Buffy followed him up a grand staircase. "This is Mum and Da's room, here's Angel's room," he continued down the hallway, "Here's _my _room if you ever fancy a visit--"

"Ew!" Buffy swatted him on the shoulder. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Just you wait, love. You'll want to know where I lay my head."

"_No, _I won't. Pervert." He smiled cheekily.

"If the shoe fits."

"Will you just show me where I'm staying?"

"There." Spike pointed to the door directly across from his. "Guest room."

"Thanks." Buffy said through gritted teeth, swinging the door open and peering inside. "Wow."

The room was gorgeous. A queen bed of dark wood sat prominently in the middle of the room, decked out in a fluffy white comforter and at least ten pillows. Across the room there was a vanity and a spacious wardrobe. Ivory tapestries hung from each spare inch of wall-space, and a gigantic picture window gave views to the rolling greens the house was situated on. Buffy was snapped out of her admiration by the slamming of Spike's bedroom door.

_Pleasant guy. _She thought to herself.

"Buffy?" Angel crept up to the doorway. "What do you think?"

"Oh, Angel!" She smiled brightly. "It's amazing! I love it."

"I'm glad." He smoothed a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Come on downstairs, dinner is ready."

Buffy followed Angel down the staircase and into the dining room. The table was set beautifully, complete with lit candles and so much food she wondered if Thanksgiving had come early. Angel took his seat and Buffy sat down next to him, Spike on her other side. She noticed briefly that he'd removed his duster and slung it over the back of the Queen Anne chair.

She looked down at her plate at the Chicken Cordon Bleu, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, and side salad. It all looked amazing. She laughed to herself, wondering if Angel was going to have to roll her out of the house at the end of the week. "This looks amazing." She breathed in the scent of the freshly made food.

"Angel tells us you're quite the athlete," Jenny said, digging into her plate.

Buffy looked at her boyfriend incredulously. She had no idea he even knew how often she was at the gym. He was always at practice when she went.

"Uh, yeah. That's me--Athletic Girl!"

"She could probably take half the guys on the team." Angel laughed, spooning more potatoes onto his plate.

"Doesn't look like it," Spike snorted. Giles, Jenny, and Angel all shot him disapproving looks. "I jus' mean she looks a little thin." Spike grumbled.

"Looks can be deceiving, Spike." Buffy smiled sweetly, having a faint idea that her saccharine annoyed him to the hilt.

"Sure hope so, because you look sort of like a-"

"Spike!" Giles' voice rang out above the table, silencing Spike before he could finish the cutting comment he was about to make.

"Ignore my step-brother, sweetheart. He's got an attitude problem." Angel glared angrily over his shoulder at the peroxide blonde.

"_Anyway-" _Jenny started, obviously frustrated at the evident tension. "Tell me how you met my son, Buffy."

"We met last May at a party for the team, Mom." Angel said before Buffy could answer. "The rest is history."

Dinner continued in an orderly fashion--Spike kept silent for most of it, except for the occasional biting comment under his breath that went largely ignored. Angel dominated most of the conversation, talking about football. Buffy had learned very early on that the easiest way to make Angel happy was to let him take charge and therefore, only attempted to break into the conversation every few minutes. As soon as everyone had finished eating, Jenny stood, wiping her hands on her trousers.

"I'm sorry to be a bad host, Buffy, but I've simply got to get to bed. I'm exhausted. Rupert, will you clear the table for me?"

"Of course. Angel, give me a hand." Angel nodded obediently and followed his step-father out of the dining room, leaving Buffy and Spike at the table alone. Spike leaned to his side, inching himself closer to the girl.

"Well I guess he got his dream girl." He tapped her condescendingly on the nose.

"Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"Well what was it then?" Buffy huffed.

"Subservient, boring, a perfect little ice queen."

"I am _not _an ice queen." Buffy narrowed her eyes and leaned towards Spike.

"Don't see much of a personality, that's all."

"You know, everyone else might let you get away with being an arrogant prick, but do not piss me off, Spike"

"Or you'll what? Stare at me with blank eyes a little longer?"

Buffy slapped him. Hard. He pressed a hand to his cheek. The slap hadn't really hurt…but man, had it shocked him. Where was this fire the entire dinner while she was sitting idly by?

"Buffy? You guys okay in here?" Angel stepped behind Buffy, placing a hand on her shoulder and massaging it gently.

"We're great. Just making friends." She stood up, smiled at Spike, and sauntered out of the room.

--

Spike stalked upstairs, his hands shoved angrily in his pockets. The chit had _slapped _him? Who did she think she was? He kicked the wall near to his room, leaving a scuff mark from his boot. He flopped down onto the black comforter and looked over at the picture on his nightstand.

_Drusilla. _Stupid bint. He tossed the picture into the waste basket next to his bed, the glass shattering as it hit. As he rolled onto his side, he could hear muffled voices in the guest room across the hall. He couldn't believe his step-brother had actually brought that insufferable little brat home. He leaned over, turned the volume knob of his stereo way up, and closed his eyes.

--

Buffy opened her suitcase and pulled out the gray nightgown and set it on the bed. She was exhausted--though the Douglas-Giles family (sans Spike) seemed perfectly nice, the tension all day was too much for her body to handle. She peeled off her shirt and jeans. Just as she was about to undo her bra, the door to her room swung open.

"Angel?"

"Oh God, Buffy. I'm so sorry." He spun around. Buffy laughed and walked up to the door. She grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

"It's just underwear, Angel."

"I know--I just wanted to say goodnight." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Night!" She shimmied her hips a little as she shut the door. She couldn't take it anymore--being treated like a little doll. Tonight was the night she was going to make Angel see her as something more. She took off her bra, tossing it back into her suitcase and slipped the thin, jersey-cotton nightgown over her head.

Perched on her bed, Buffy waited patiently until she heard Jenny and Rupert go to bed. Nervous, she waited fifteen extra minutes, just to make sure. Then she silently crept out of her room, the floorboards creaking underneath her bare feet. Finally, she reached Angel's door. She twisted the doorknob and snuck in.

Angel was stretched out his bed, wearing only boxer briefs. His hands were behind his head, and his eyes were half-lidded as he lazily watched football recaps on the television on his dresser. "Angel." She whispered.

"Buffy?" Angel turned his head, his eyes flying open. She smiled innocently at him. He couldn't help but appreciate how gorgeous she looked in her simple nightgown--the way it clung to every curve. Her hair was soft, hanging against her glowing cheeks. She made a fist around the material and swallowed. "What are you doing here, baby?"

"I just wanted to see you." When she noticed the way Angel was looking at her, her confidence grew. She sat down gingerly on the bed and grabbed his hand. She leaned forward and kissed him, trying to incite passion in the boyfriend she loved. The kiss grew more intense as Angel's hand tangled up into her hair.

_Yes. Success. Gooo Team Buffy!_

Angel leaned her backward and rolled so that his body was completely covering hers. His hands snaked along her sides, her bare legs, her arms, as he kissed her like he'd never kissed her before. She was just starting to feel the startings of arousal against her thigh when he rolled off of her and pressed a hand to his chest.

"Okay…well you should get yourself off to bed."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Buffy, I just don't want to move too fast."

"_Too _fast, Angel? How is this too fast?" Buffy stood up, angered by his inability to let go and put her hands on her hips.

"I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret. I mean, you're a virgin--"

"So this is about me being a virgin? You can't handle that I'm inexperienced?" She couldn't help it, tears began to pool in her eyes as rejection set in.

"It's not that, Buffy--I just don't want to ruin a good thing." Angel couldn't understand where this hurt was coming from. He loved her. And she was good, pure. Why would he want to ruin that?

"I'm not a child, Angel!" She threw up her hands in frustration, spun around, and walked out the door, slamming it without a care.

Spike heard a bang and awoke with a start. _What the…?_

He opened his door and peered out, and there he saw her--a blonde little thing wearing only the tiniest scrap of material, her face red and flushed. She didn't look anything like the perfectly prim girl of the earlier evening. This girl was wild abandon. She turned her head, for the first time noticing his watchful glare and frowned.

"What do _you _want?" She backed up against the wall, as if trying to escape from him.

"Just heard a slam is all. Thought there was trouble." He ran a hand against his bare stomach and Buffy noticed for a brief second how the pale, smooth skin stretched almost artfully across his hip bones.

"Well there's no trouble. None at all. Things are perfect." She tapped her tongue incessantly on the letter T and turned to leave. Passing by the window, her tiny form was bathed in moonlight and Spike was able to see exactly how little she was wearing. Just a tiny gray nightgown, barely covering the tops of her thighs. The material was so thin he could see the outline of every curve. He watched, entranced, as her chest heaved, giving way to the delicate bone structure just below her neckline.

"I wouldn't suggest you walk around practically naked, love." He stepped out of the bedroom and placed a hand on the wall, trapping her. "Some beastie might get you." Buffy ducked under his arm and walked partially into the opened door of the guest room.

_"_Well, now," she purred sweetly, gripping the door frame in anger. "We wouldn't want that to happen, would we?" Spike crossed in front of her door and leaned in, his head almost crossing the threshold into her room.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" He smiled arrogantly, loving the way his insistence made her soft cheeks blush and her expressions harden.

"Never." This time her voice was quiet, but forceful. Dangerous. He leaned, taking in the sweet scent of her shampoo and whispered against her ear.

"Are you sure?" He drew out the last word, letting his hot breath fan against the sensitive skin, enjoying the way her body tensed up in delicious little shudders.

"I--I.." Buffy mumbled, caught off guard completely. Suddenly he pulled back and straightened.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, love. I want nothing to do with--" he looked her up and down, a look of disgust on his face, "_that." _He reveled in the shocked expression now settling on her delicate features and tapped her on the nose. "Now run along." With a wink and a click of his tongue, he was in his room, safe from the flood of anger that was sure to follow.

Buffy walked back into her room, dumbfounded. What had just happened? Was he hitting on her or was he trying to hurt her feelings? She was completely thrown. No wonder Angel didn't like him--he was so..so…so…_irritating. _

_And a little hot. _


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for getting this far guys. Remember that the full, unedited version is posted on my site, www. bloodcalling . weebly . com

(without the spaces!)  Or feel free to read here as well :-)

Chapter 3

A/N: There are some lines in here that were taken directly out of the show. They are not mine and I don't claim they are. It's just my own personal shout out to the show :-)

"You all ready, Buffy?" Angel peered his head into the guest room, searching for his girlfriend. She'd been getting ready for what seemed hours.

"Yes!" Buffy rounded the corner from her bathroom, smiling brightly. She was dressed in a white, cable-knit sweater dress, black leggings, and slouchy gray boots. Her long blonde hair was in a messy bun and around her neck was the string of pearls Angel had given her the previous week.

"You look gorgeous." Angel stretched out his arms in appreciation, showing off the tight blue tee-shirt that complimented his muscular form.

"Thanks, boyfriend."

Angel had dedicated the entire day to gaining forgiveness from the stubborn blonde for his rejection the night before--starting out with Angel delivering breakfast to her bedside. She'd crossed her arms stubbornly and refused to eat any of the delicious meal--a croissant, freshly squeezed orange juice, and scrambled eggs--until he had apologized. He'd sat by the bedside for almost an hour, coaxing her with apologies and promises until she'd relented and in her hunger, gobbled the entire breakfast up in five minutes flat. Though she still didn't have much of an explanation for his frigid behavior, she couldn't be angry at him when he was looking at her with sad-eyes!

They'd spent the rest of the day lounging around the house. Angel had even taken the time to introduce her to the expansive book collection housed by his step-father. Though Buffy found most books eternally boring, she found the crackling fire and leather couches of the library especially romantic. After a delicious dinner prepared by Marguerite, Angel had suggested they go out that evening to meet his high school buddies. Buffy had gladly agreed, eager to puzzle out the constant mystery that was Angel. She had to admit that while his mysterious nature was intriguing, his inability to talk about his feelings was aggravating to the max.

"Well--let's go." Angel grabbed Buffy by the crook of the arm and tugged her out of the room as she slung her purse over the other shoulder.

--

"You should _totally _take this car back to California," Buffy mused after they had climbed comfortably into Angel's sleek black Lexus SC.

"If I did--could I get you to drive it?" Angel raised his eyebrows at her.

"No. No. Buffy and cars just don't mix. But I'll gladly ride in it."

"I know you will. I guess I'll just have to take you for a spin every time you visit." Buffy blushed beat red.

_Every time I visit? This must be going better than I thought…_

"Where are we going?" She asked as Angel started the car and pulled out of the driveway.

"Just to a little party."

--

"A _little _party?" Buffy squeaked as Angel pulled the car into the driveway of a home that was bursting with drunken college students. Several students were braving the east coast chill to sit in the front yard in lawn chairs, tipping back cans of Keystone and Pabst.

"Sorry--I didn't think it'd be so wild." Theypair walked up to the front door and let themselves in, treading carefully over a blonde girl who was passed out on the welcome mat.

"Angel! Is that you?" The deep voice of a handsome dark-skinned man came from the back kitchen.

"Gunn! Hey buddy." Angel slung his arm around the shoulders of his friend. "This is Buffy."

"Hey." Gunn stuck out his hand and Buffy shook it, wincing at his intensely firm grip. Suddenly a pack of more males filtered into the kitchen, all slapping Angel on the shoulder.

"Buffy--this is Wes, Lorne, and Doyle."

"Nice to meet you." Buffy smiled at the three guys.

"Yeah, you want a drink?" Doyle offered, holding out a red plastic cup.

"Oh, I don't know. Buffy and beer don't mix too well…Oh, hell. Why not?" She grabbed the cup thankfully. Angel reached out to grab another from Wes.

"Hey there. Ladies drink free. It's three bucks a cup for everyone else."

"Come on, Doyle. I'm the one that implemented that policy back in high school." Angel swatted the cup from Doyle's hands, laughing. "Want me to fill your cup?" Angel offered. Buffy nodded and watched as he disappeared out the sliding glass door in search of the keg.

"So, Beth--" Gunn started.

"_Buffy_." She corrected.

"Buffy," he said apologetically, managing to take a shot of Jack Daniel's between words, "How're you liking town?"

Just as she was about to answer, a load groan came from the back of the crowd.

"What the hell is _he _doing here?" Wes said, pointing into the attached living room. Buffy glanced over. A looming figure in a dark trench coat had his back to her. Spike? Buffy stepped a few paces forward and sure enough, Spike had his hands on the wall, trapping a female figure in a corner. Buffy took a few steps to the left and craned her head to get another look. Spike was zealously sucking on the neck of a petite girl with short black hair, knee-high leather boots, and a tacky mini skirt. Buffy rolled her eyes--the girl was _everything _she'd pin Spike to find attractive.

"One beer for the lady." Angel's hand snaked around her shoulders, holding the red cup, now filled to the brim with cheap beer.

"Thanks." Buffy tipped the cup to her lips and swallowed. She hated beer. Especially the way it started to taste _so. Freaking. Good _after two or three…

"Hey! Darla!" Angel suddenly shouted as he recognized a friend across the room. He started to walk over to her, beckoning Buffy to follow.

"Oh, that's ok. I'm going to go look for a bathroom."

She wandered down the hallway, opening several doors to be confronted with the flailing, naked bodies of college students. She leaned against the wall, tipping her cup back and swallowing the last of the liquid.

"Hey beautiful." A mildly attractive guy suddenly sidled up to her and grabbed the empty cup, replacing her waiting hand with a full one. "Looks like _you _need a new beer."

"Uh, thanks." She smiled politely and took a sip.

"So, what's your name?"

"Buffy."

"Let me tell you--" the guy staggered a bit and placed a hand on the wall next to her head to brace himself, "Becky--"

"_Buffy." _

"Sorry, Kathy."

_At least he had the right first letter on the first try. _Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Anyway. What was I saying? Oh right--you're a fine piece of ass, madam."

Buffy nodded, unable to think of the words that would send this loser packing. As he continued to drone on in a drunken discussion of his own egotistical belief that they would be sleeping together that night, she indulged herself in alcohol. Magically, it seemed as if Chris--Nate--No, Tom--or was it Jack?--managed to replace her beer within five seconds of her finishing the one before it. Before she knew it, the face of the boy whose name she couldn't quite place was starting to blur (which also made him marginally more attractive).

"Hey, Hunter. It's been real nice talkin' to ya…wait, who I am kidding? No it hasn't. I'm gonna go…"

"The name is Kyle, blondie." He spun around, stumbling off to find a slightly-more drunken girl to hit on.

Buffy slid along the wall, attempting to keep her body upright, when she slammed into the rock hard body of a male was propping himself up against the wall about ten feet down.

"Wha? Watch where yer goin!" Spike said in a slurred voice. He opened his half-lidded eyes, looking at the very drunk Buffy in front of him. He didn't seem to register who he was looking at when he smiled sleepily. "Never mind, pet. Bump into me _allll _you want." He touched a loose tendril of her blonde hair gently and licked his lower lip. "Yer like goldilocks, ya know?"

"Um, Spike." Buffy stepped back, draining her fifth (or was it sixth?) cup of beer. "It's Buffy. BBBBuuuffffyyy."

Spike concentrated on her form, completely confused. Then his eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, bugger. It's _you._" He attempted to walk off, stumbling into the other end of the wall and bouncing backwards like some sort of human ping pong ball. Suddenly he pressed a hand to his stomach. "I feel like shit." He slurred.

"Oh, God. I'm going to have to do this, aren't I?" Buffy gripped his arm and tugged him upwards, his head almost colliding with the wall. "Let's get you to a bathroom, Mister."

--

"You're pathetic, you know that?" Buffy was perched on the edge of the tub, watching Spike bend over the toilet and heave.

"God, do you _ever _shut up?" Spike looked up from the toilet and Buffy cracked up. "What's so funny?"

"L--look in the mirror!" She sputtered, giggling drunkenly.

"Can't really stand at the moment, pet."

"You've got barf _all _over your chin." Spike frowned and attempted to wipe his face with the sleeve of his jacket. He only managed to make it worse.

"Uh, let me." Buffy grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped off his face, tossing the crumpled mess into the trashcan. "Now look at me." She tugged his face towards hers and looked him deeply in the eyes. "BEER BAD!" She said, as if scolding a small child. Spike couldn't contain himself. He started to laugh, collapsing backwards from his crouching position and landing on his butt.

"Did you really just say that?" He asked, leaning until he was flat on his back.

"I did." She scooted down into the bathtub, her lower back aching from the position she'd been in for almost an hour.

"You're one crazy broad." Spike fished around in his pocket, retrieving the package of cigarettes.

"Fag?" He held one out in her direction.

"A world of no."

"Suit yourself." Spike pulled out his Zippo and lit the cigarette, taking a drag of it and coughing roughly.

"That's disgusting. Put that out!"

"Add bossy to that laundry list." Spike exhaled a cloud of smoke and propped his combat boots up on the edge of the toilet. Buffy lifted herself onto the edge of the tub and kicked him in the side. Spike sputtered. "Bloody hell! What is your problem?"

"That." She pointed to the cigarette in his hand.

"Fine!" Spike unsuccessfully patted the cigarette against the linoleum floor and tossed it at her. The still-hot paper landed on her exposed wrist.

"Ouch!" She flicked the cigarette away and grabbed for her wrist.

"Fuck. I'm s-sorry." Spike sat up, the look in his eyes genuinely remorseful for burning her.

"Whatever. I'm fine." She lifted her wrist to her mouth and sucked the burn, the wetness of her mouth soothing the sting. Spike watched her, silent for a moment.

"Stop that." She kept her lips pressed to her wrist, but her gaze drifted up to meet his own. She continued to suckle on the sensitive flesh.

Spike couldn't take his eyes away.

_Bad thoughts bad thoughts bad thoughts… _

How the hell was he supposed to concentrate when she was sucking on her skin like a damn lollipop? The drunken buzz in his brain became a dull hum as he attempted not to think about how desirable she looked in this very moment. She dropped her wrist and looked up at him.

"_Why _are you looking at me like that?"

"Well--you can't just _suck _like that and not expect any self-respecting bloke to let his mind wander, pet."

"What? Ew!" Buffy frowned in disgust and kicked him in the side again.

"Can you _not _do that?"

"Well, don't _look _at me like that!"

"Well don't _suck _like that!"

"You're disgusting!" Buffy braced the edge of the tub. "I'm going to find Angel." She attempted to stand, wobbled, and slid down to the floor next to Spike. "Guess I'm drunker than I thought."

"Guess you're stuck with me." Spike lifted his head and cocked an eyebrow in her direction.

"Glorious."

--

Spike's head was pounding. In fact, it felt like a truck had run over it. He opened his eyes slowly, the fluorescent light making them burn. He sat up and looked around. He was in a bathroom. How did he _get _in a bathroom? A empty bottle of Skol was lying near the door.

_Oh. That's how. _

It was then that he noticed the slumbering figure of his step-brother's girlfriend. She was in the tub, her suede boots kicked off and her legs slung over the edge. Her hair was mussed up around her face and her eyeliner was smudged down her cheeks. Bloody hell. He stood up and bent over the sink, splashing some cold water onto his face. He opened the door and wandered out into the hallway. The house was filled with passed out college students, from the floors to the couches. He opened the front door, wincing at the sunlight, and carried on his way.

--

Buffy awoke to a faint buzzing on her thigh.

Huh? What the…Oh God, her phone! She fished into the pocket of her sweater dress and yanked out her buzzing cell phone. The flashing screen read _12 Missed Calls. _They were all from Angel. She quickly pressed 1 on her speed dial and held the phone to her ear. The phone didn't even finish a full ring before Angel's frantic voice picked up.

"Buffy?"

"Hey."

"Where are you? I've been calling all night!"

"I know, I know. I just…I drank too much. I just woke up."

"I've been driving all across town for the last four hours, Buffy."

"I'm _so _sorry. I'm still at the house."

"I'll be there in five."

The line went dead.

--

It was almost seven o'clock at night and Spike was just waking up. He looked around the pitch-black room, grateful for the thick black curtains that covered his window and blocked out the intrusive sun.

_Bloody hell…_

He'd slept all day, trying to fend off the hangover that made his whole body feel like it had barely survived a natural disaster. It was then that he heard soft noises coming from outside his room--giggling, deep breathing, kissing.

_Buffy._ It was then he remembered the night before--the way she'd stayed with him, the sight of her passed out in the tub.

"Angel…" he heard her voice, the faintest of breathy moans and he couldn't help but imagine the scene that was likely taking place in the room across the hall. She was probably sprawled against the bed, blonde hair spread out all over the pillow, body slick with sweat, all toned and taut but soft in the right places. Spike felt his arousal growing at the mental image of a naked Buffy, writing around on the sheets. He tried desperately to think of anything else--Carmen Electra, Drusilla, that girl (what was her name?) from the night before--but every time he did, images of the petite blonde invaded his imagination, fueling the fire more than he would have liked.

"Buffy…" the name escaped his lips before he knew what he was doing. "Spike?" A hard knocking came at his bedroom door and his hand shot up, out of his boxers, almost smacking him in the chin. It was Buffy.

"Uh…yeah?"

"Angel wanted me to tell you we're going to dinner," she giggled and made that breathy little moan again, "Stop tickling me, Angel! Anyway…" he voice trailed off and he heard the two lumber down the hallway.

A tickle fight? They were having a tickle fight? Who were these two--the long lost descendents of the bloody freakin' Care Bears?

--

"Um…I'll have the lasagna." Buffy shut the leather-bound menu and handed it to the waiter. The waiter nodded and carried the stack of menus out of the room. Buffy, Angel, Spike, Giles, and Jenny were all seated at a circular oak table in a fancy Italian restaurant. Spike took a sip of his water and stared across the table at the girl seated next to his step-brother. Her long blonde hair was falling around her face in a way that reminded him of a little blonde girl he'd had a crush on in the sixth grade. Being with his ex, Drusilla, had almost made him forget his early penchant for toe-heads, but being around Buffy had certainly jogged his memory. He was frustrated beyond belief--ever since he'd allowed those images of her to invade his brain, she'd been branded there like a tattoo. He could barely watched her glossy little lips move over her straw without imagining something noticeably larger replacing it. Her tongue flicked out over her lower lip and he groaned inwardly--why did everything she did have to be so _erotic_? Watching her, he knew exactly what he needed to do. One good shag and she'd be out of his system. Just one quickie and he'd be able to stop thinking about her and move on to better prospects--ones who weren't aggravating little know-it-alls. Of course, the fact that she was in love with his ponce of a step-brother didn't help, but Spike wasn't worried. He _always _got what he wanted.

"Excuse me for a minute, I've got to find the bathroom." Buffy stood up, smoothing her short black skirt, and walked away from the table. Spike watched her backside approvingly as it swung in a hypnotizing fashion from side to side.

"Uh, yeah. I've got to go too." Spike stood up and followed the blonde down out of the room and down a back hallway.

Buffy spun around when she heard forceful footsteps behind her. Spike was just a few paces behind, his signature black coat billowing behind him as he picked up speed. She grimaced and turned back around, continuing down the long, dark hallway that led to the restrooms.

"Jesus, woman. Slow down." Spike called after her and she stopped, turning her head just slightly to cock an eyebrow at him.

"Need help finding the little boy's room, Spikey?" He closed the gap between him and she scooted backwards, her back finding the wood-paneled wall. She spread her palms out against it as if to brace herself.

"Not exactly." He was standing so close to her that it made her uncomfortable. She pursed her lips together, attempting to keep her cool.

"What are you doing?" Spike pressed closer, his lips only a few inches from her own and smirked.

"I know you feel it, too." He angled his head to the side and breathed out against her earlobe. He felt her body tremble ever so slightly just before her hand came in contact with his chest and pressed him away.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Buffy swallowed hard. She was completely thrown--her heart was pumping, her mind was racing, and her fingertips were tingling the way they did just before she was about to have a mind-shattering (and self-induced) orgasm.

"You. Me. Getting to know one another in the Biblical sense." He closed the space between them once again and pressed his body flush against hers. She blushed furiously when she released the hard thing poking her in the thigh probably _wasn't _his wallet.

"You're repulsive."

"You want it. Little prim Buffy, all caged up and dying to break free. You know you want to fly." He ground against her hips, breathing in the scent of her shampoo-fresh hair.

"Say it's true. Say I do want to…it wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you. You're beneath me."

Spike took a few steps backward, surprised by her cutting comment. "You think you're so high and mighty, Summers. Just you wait in see. You'll be writhing in my bed before you know it." Spike hissed at her, his eyes filled with rage. With that, he spun around on his heels and stalked out the back door of the restaurant.


	4. Chapter 4

-1Chapter 4

A/N: There's more Buffy quotes in here. Just like the characters and some of the themes--they're not mine. They are Joss Whedon's.

--Remember that this story is rated M. And MA version is available on my site, www.bloodcalling.. And don't forget to review, it helps me to create the kind of story you'll enjoy! Thanks.

_Thanksgiving _

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy! Everywhere I turn, she's there. That nasty little face, that bouncing, shampoo-commercial hair. That whole holier-than-thou attitude."

Spike threw up his hands in frustration as he paced back and forth of the back deck of the Giles/Douglas home. He lit a cigarette and breathed deep, the smoke soothing his irritation. How _dare _she try to insinuate that she's _above _him. Little bitch was going to get a nasty awakening when she realized how dull and lackluster her entire life was. He could see it in her eyes--the same pained desire that fluttered through his when his father spoke of him following in his footsteps and running the popular book-store chain, The Magic Box. He didn't _want _to run a bookstore chain or study law like his step-brother. He wanted to play in his band--make good music, bed lovely women, and travel the world.

"William?" Jenny stuck her head out the sliding glass door. "Will you help me with the mashed potatoes?" He nodded and followed her inside, stamping the cigarette underneath his boot before she could see.

"Thanksgiving--strange holiday you yanks have." Spike clicked his tongue and grabbed the half mixed bowl of potatoes.

"But delicious, right?" Jenny smiled at him and he nodded. As much as he'd hated the move from England to New York and even more, the addition of a step-brother, he truly cared for Jenny. She was the only mum he'd ever really known, after all. His birth mother had died when he was a toddler and it had just been his father and him until Jenny and Rupert had met at a booksellers convention in New York almost ten years ago.

The heavy footfalls coming from the stairs warned Spike that Angel was approaching. The guy always walked as if he was trying to make some sort of announcement as to his arrival--nearly shattering the floorboards as he ambled around. Angel came into the kitchen, Buffy behind him. She was dressed in a tight pair of jeans and a thick, cranberry colored sweater. Her lips were the same color and Spike couldn't help but stare.

"Morning." Buffy said to Jenny. Her green eyes swept over Spike's face and she furrowed her brows together.

"Mornin'." Spike looked the pair up and down and then went back to his work mixing.

Jenny looked around the room frantically. "Oh, no. I forgot to bring up the box from the basement. The tablecloth and place settings are in it." She smoothed her hands over her apron. "Angel, will you come to the basement with me and help me carry it up?"

"Of course." Angel followed Jenny out of the kitchen, leaving Spike and Buffy to stare daggers at one another.

"Fancy yourself a cigarette?" Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out two Marlboros.

"A world of no." Buffy crinkled her nose in disgust.

"Suit yourself."

"I really don't think you should smoke in here, you know." Buffy narrowed her eyes at him and tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears. Spike ignored her.

"Those are nice," he said, eyeing the diamond studs that adorned her exposed earlobes. "Gift from my step-brother, I presume? He keeps you all showered in expensive gifts and you spread your dimpled knees in return, eh?"

"_Actually,_" Buffy pushed her hair into a long curtain that hid the earrings. "They were a gift from my mother."

Just as Spike was about to comment back with something cutting and extra-nasty, he heard the footsteps of Jenny and Angel climbing the stairs. He quickly put of his cigarette in the sink and tossed it in the trashcan.

"Is something burning?" Jenny sniffed as she walked into the kitchen with Angel in tow, carrying the gigantic box labeled "Thanksgiving."

"No. Spike was smoking a second ago, maybe it's that."

_"_William!" Jenny pursed her lips together. "I've asked you about a thousand times not to smoke in the house."

"Sorry." He mumbled, shooting a deadly look at Buffy. She shrugged and smiled innocently.

_Little bitch. _

--

Buffy lounged back against Angel and breathed deep. They were seated on the back deck, enjoying the crisp autumn air and the smells coming from the kitchen.

"Thanks so much for bringing me out here."

"Of course. My family was dying to meet you."

"You mean, Giles and Jenny were dying to meet me?"

"Yeah, I guess Spike doesn't really care either way. You know, he and I used to get along back in the day, as much as he'll deny it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, we were best friends. Then we started high school, I joined the football team, and he started painting his nails black and playing the guitar. Things just went downhill from there."

"That's unfortunate."

"No no no!" Jenny's frantic voice could be heard from the kitchen as a cloud of smoke suddenly billowed out from the window. The pair jumped up and ran inside. Jenny and Giles were standing next to an open oven, black smoke surrounding them. In Jenny's pink oven mitts, she held a charred turkey.

"This is the first year I decide to send Marguerite home and cook for myself, and look where it gets me."

"Don't worry, I've got a solution."

"Everyone eat burned turkey for dinner?" Jenny smiled at him weakly.

"No. I put in a call to Dinner Delight last night and had them prepare a turkey just in case."

"So you _knew _I was going to do this?" Jenny said shrilly.

"Not exactly, dear, but you do have a tendency to…" Giles took off his glasses and began to clean them, "burn things. I just wanted to have a backup."

"Well it's a good thing you have no faith in me."

"It's not _that." _Giles put an awkward arm around his wife's shoulders. "Come on, I'll drive. If we leave right now, we can have it back right in time for dinner. The rest of the food is done, isn't it?" Jenny nodded.

"I guess. Kids, we'll be back in about a half an hour."

--

"Half an hour? It's been at least an hour and a half." Angel looked up at the clock, frowning. "You want a wine or something?"

"Sure." Angel stood up and grabbed the bottle of 1998 Merlot, pouring it into a kiddy cup.

"Are you serious?" Buffy asked as he handed it back to her.

"You tend to break things." He patted her shoulder.

"Jesus, she's not seven years old, Nancy boy." Spike said from his spot across the room. He was leaning against the far wall, nursing a Stella Artois. Angel ignored him. Buffy watched in shock as Spike pulled a silver flask from his duster pocket (it seemed to have an infinite amount of space, she mused) and took a swig.

"You're going to be wasted by the time they get back." Buffy said, taking a sip of her wine.

"And judging by how you acted the other night, I'd say you'll be in the same boat, love."

Suddenly Angel's cell-phone began to ring and he picked it up quickly.

"Mom? Are you guys okay?" Buffy could hear a frantic voice on the other end. "It'll be all right. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, as Angel hung up the phone, a worried look in his eyes.

"My mom and Giles got into a car accident. Totaled the car. They're both okay, but they're sitting outside freezing so I'm going to take my car and wait with them for the police to come and then give them a ride back here."

"Oh no! Do you need me to come with you?"

"I would, Buffy, but there isn't enough room for the both of you." Angel's eyes darted back to look at Spike and she suddenly remembered he was there. "Look, I shouldn't be too long," he pulled on his jacket and grabbed his keys from the hook on the wall. "I'll call you as soon as we're filing the report."

"Ok." Buffy smiled nervously and watched her boyfriend stalk out of the room in a hurry.

The two sat in silence for what seemed hours. She was off in her own little world, a day dream occupying her thoughts, when Spike slid into the chair at the table next to her.

"Drink?" He shoved the flask in her direction. She shrugged and took a swig of the bitter liquid. "You're a real treat, Summers."

"My name is _Buffy._ And why is that?"

"Half the time you're staring up at dear ol' Liam with moon eyes, all strung up on virtue, and the other half you're drinking hard liquor and grindin' up on me."

"I have never _ground _up on you."

"You tell yourself that."

"Fine. I will. Good thing it's _true." _Buffy downed the last of her wine.

"So tell me, pet. What's Angel like in the sack? Does he cry?"

"What? No!"

"I don't believe it. He cries, doesn't he?"

"He doesn't cry, Spike. He's very manly….and has lots of--um--stamina. And skills. Yeah, he's very skillful."

"You've never even fucked him, have you?" Spike's eyebrows shot upwards. "Oh, this is rich!"

"I so have--fu--slept with him." Buffy folded her arms in front of her.

"So why not, Summers? Not attracted to him? Afraid he can't compare to all the others who have warmed your bed? I could see why. He's a bit of a dead fish, isn't he?"

"Isn't it _my _turn to ask a question?" Buffy took another swig from his flask--anything to calm the thumping heart currently having a party in her ribcage.

"Fine. Ask away. I've got nothing to hide."

"What's with the attitude? Why are you always stomping around all doom and gloom? Your life can't be _that _bad, Spike."

"Touché. I spose' the ladies like it." He licked his lower lip. "Now answer mine--why haven't you let Angel _spread those dimpled knees."_

"It's not a matter of letting." She admitted, her face turning a brilliant shade of red.

"What? You mean, it's _him _doing the refusal?" Spike laughed again. This was all too much. He imagined the girl in front of him trying to tempt his step-brother. How could he refuse such a delicious little thing? "But…_why?" _

"He likes my _virtue._" The confession came out before Buffy could stop herself. Spike's jaw dropped. He looked her up and down, all hot and tempting, her adorable face screwed up in embarrassment. She was a _virgin_? An untouched, perfect, virtuous little piece of fire? He could barely contain himself. The very idea that she knew _nothing _of his favorite activity--oh God, it would be _fun _to teach her--was enough to make his entire body stiffen in excitement.

"Don't you _dare_ tell Angel I told you that." Buffy stood up.

"Wait. Wait. Sit down." Spike grabbed her hand and tugged her down. Much to his surprise, she complied. "No wonder you're always such a bitch." Spike stroked a hand down her flaming cheek, unable to conceal his smile. "All that pent up tension." He dropped his hand to her jean clad knee and began to massage it, his fingers climbing dangerously up her thigh.

"Stop it." Buffy breathed, her plea unconvincing.

"I want to kiss you." Spike scooted closer, taking her face in both hands.

"Don't." She said it, but she didn't make any effort to move his hands from her cheeks.

"Stop me." Spike leaned forward, his lips only centimeters from her own, and lingered. She did nothing to move away. He took this as permission and crushed forward, pressing his eager lips against hers. He felt her entire body loosen up and she moved into the kiss as well, her tongue coming to meet his and his hands fell from her cheeks. He ran them down her shoulders, under the hem of her sweater, tickling his fingers against the smooth skin at the small of her back. She tasted _delicious. _Her mouth was hot, wet, tempting, breathing him in, consuming him. Just the taste of her lips was making him more aroused than he'd ever been--more so, when she let a little mewl of desire escape from her lips. He moved his lips to her neck and began to lick, bite, and suck up the channel of skin, one hand running through her soft hair, the other delving up her sweater to play with the tiny belly button ring that adorned her middle. Her whole body was responding to his--her heart thumping, blood pumping, her hips grinding upward, aching for contact.

"Fuck, pet." He pulled away, breathing hard, and looked her deep in her sleepy-eyes.

"Oh, God." Her eyes went from dreamy to awake in seconds. "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. Why did you do that?" She stood up angrily, smoothing her hair and wiping her face. "Ugh--lips of Spike!"

"Don't pretend you weren't there just as much as I was." He stood as well and grabbed hey by her narrow hips.

"Stop. Just stop." She lowered her head.

"Can't. Won't." Spike mumbled. He tipped her chin upwards and kissed her once, gently. He kissed each cheek, her nose, her forehead, her chin. He bent at the knees and kissed her neck--once, twice, three times. He dropped to his knees and kisses the sliver of skin between her jeans and sweater. His hands moved to the hem and scrunched it up, over her stomach, over her chest, over her head, leaving her in only a tight, white tank top that easily showed the outline of her bra. He stood, kissed her collarbone, her shoulders, her forearms, her wrists. He backed up and looked her in the eyes. Her face was dazed with lust, her lips parted only so--her face a perfect replica of the vision he'd had earlier. "Follow me." His voice was low and dangerous as he grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her behind him.

Buffy swallowed, her heart pumping. What was she doing? She allowed Spike to tug her out of the kitchen, up the stairs, down the hallway and into his room. He shut the door behind them and she looked around. The bed was covered in a thick black comforter, the windows covered with black curtains. The walls were painted a deep, blood red and a guitar was propped against his nightstand. She watched in awe as he shrugged off his duster, tossing it onto the leather chair next to his bed. Was this really about to happen? She couldn't help it--her entire body was buzzing with a kind of lust she'd never experienced--a need, a desire. It was Angel's fault, she reasoned. He'd been denying her too long. But she _couldn't _do this. Not to Angel. Not with _Spike. _

"I--I can't do this, Spike." She turned. He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around, kissing her deeply once more. And she was putty in his arms once again. He lifted his black tee-shirt over his head, revealing a body as toned, taut, and smooth as an underwear model. She bit her lower lip.

Spike watched the array of emotions that passed over the blonde's face--lust, confusion, fear, attraction. It was gorgeous. He moved forward and in a flash, had pulled her tank top over her head. There she was, clad in only jeans and a flimsy black bra, her face red with desire. He closed the unbearable gap between them, kissing her lips, her face, her neck, his body tensing up with want as delicious shudders ran through her body, accompanied by tiny moans and pants. He had her against the wall, pressing his body against her stomach as he bit her neck gently. He removed the offending bra and tossed it to the ground,..

"Spp-Spike," Buffy pushed his hands away from her naked chest, "What are you doing? We can't do this. We can't. It's wrong."

"Tell me you don't want this. Tell you haven't been dreamin' of it since before you met me--before you met _Angel." _

"That doesn't make it okay." She crossed her arms around her naked breasts self-consciously.

"Fine. Leave. But you know I'm not lyin'. I can see it in your eyes--a big fire, all dampened out, just dying to burn…" Buffy watched his face intently. How did he manage to make her problems sound like poetry? She _was _tired. Tired of being suffocated…of being expected to be perfect…of being treated like a porcelain doll by her boyfriend. "Give me five minutes, pet. If you still want to leave when time is up, I'll let you go, no questions asked."

"Three minutes." Buffy dropped her arms to her sides and looked up at him, defeated. "You have three minutes." Spike smiled deliciously and kissed her.She arched her back upwards, her tiny fingers threading themselves into his peroxide hair, tugging his face closer. He resurfaced, grinning and then unbuttoned her jeans in one swift movement.

"What are you doing?"

"Still got two minutes." He grinned and shoved her jeans down, revealing a pair of lacy black panties. "Pretty sexy underwear for a virgin." He cocked an eyebrow at her and smiled, loving the torture he knew she was experiencing. He picked her up and placed her on the bed, making sure to prop her head up on the pillows. Once on top of her, he began to kiss her again. She was _amazing_. Irritating, bitchy, prim, stuck-up…but God, she was _sexy. _He rolled onto his side and slid one hand beneath the waistband of her underwear. Then he pulled his hand out and placed it delicately next to her head.

"Why did you stop?" Her eyes were practically bulging out of her skull as she said this.

"Three minutes was up." He flashed her a toothy grin.

"Don't. Stop." She ordered and he found himself swelling with pride. He resumed his ministrations.

"Oh. My. God." Buffy's eyes flew shut and her words became a mumbled mess. Suddenly Spike understood.

"You've never done this before, love?" She opened her eyes and shook her head. "How could Angel refuse you this?"

She had never felt anything like _this _before in her life. Of course she had heard of it, from her friends and the internet--but she never could have imagined how good it would feel. Did it feel this good because of Spike? Or did it always feel this amazing? A million questions were running through her mind, but one by one, they melted away.

Suddenly, her entire body began to shiver, the muscles in her calves rippling.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. _Fuck_." The explicatory coming from her mouth was enough to send Spike into convulsions, but he held his ground. She was close--he could feel it. Her moans lengthened, her hands grasping at his comforter--and then she came, her mouth babbling nonsensical things. She slumped back against the bed and Spike withdrew.

"How do you feel?" He kissed the length of her neck, massaging her stomach.

"Mmmm." That was all Buffy could muster as she turned her head and smiled at him, her face sleepy with satisfaction. Spike found himself thinking she looked absolutely adorable like that--face red, hair mussed, lips swollen from his kisses. Those sleepy green eyes looking at him like he was some kind of god. And then suddenly she shot upwards. "Oh no."

"What's the matter, pet?"

"Don't call me that. What the heck did I just do?"

"Had yourself a little fun for once, I'd say." Spike tugged her hair behind her ear, smiling. His mind was overjoyed, but at this very moment, his body was begging for release. He _needed _her.

"I _cheated_ on my boyfriend with his step-brother. I'm a hussy! I'm a good-for-nothing hussy!" She stood, pulled on her jeans and turned back to face him. "I have to go."

"Go where? You're in _my _house, love."

"Away! Away from this…and you!" She fastened her bra and pulled on her tank top.

"Come on. You just had the best half hour of your life. I know it. And I can't lie, I had some fun myself--I've got to compliment Angel on his taste in women."

"So that's what this was about? Doing your hated step-brothers girlfriend? One-upping him for the final time?"

"That's not what I was saying, love."

"If you tell _anyone_ about this Spike, I'll kill you. I will ruin your life." Buffy gave him one last hardened look before she tore out of the room, almost in tears.

She grabbed her cell-phone out of her jeans pocket--one missed call. She dialed her voicemail and listened carefully.

"Hey Baby," Angel's voice said over the grainy recording, "I'm with my mom and Giles. They're okay, but on our way back we got caught in a jam. I think a semi overturned a couple miles ahead--we could be here for a while. I'll call you when traffic starts moving again." _Click. _

Buffy sighed. Great. Another God-knows-how-long alone in the house with Spike--the guy she'd come _thisclose_ to having a torrid one-night stand with.

--

Three hours had passed. Buffy had completely avoided Spike by staying in her room, though he'd made no effort to talk to her. Angel had called an hour after she got his message to say that the traffic jam wasn't letting up and that he, Jenny, and Giles were turning around to go hunt for some other way to get home. Since then, she'd heard nothing.

To be honest, Buffy was frustrated. Even though she felt horrible for what she'd done with Spike, her body had never felt so good. It was like he'd awoken a whole new avenue of her personality--Nympho!Buffy. She just knew that if Angel came home and she could sleep with him, she'd erase all the guilt of what had happened. She'd been giving him her virginity, wouldn't that prove she really loved him? She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it would be like with Angel. He was different than Spike--broader, beefier, less delicate. Would he touch her the way Spike had, or would he cut straight to the chase? She imagined Angel taking off his clothes, standing over her, kissing her. She imagined him touching her--but suddenly the image of him changed to a leaner, more muscular one. _Spike. _

--

Spike could hear Buffy. Who was she talking to? He got up from his bed and went out in to the hall, listening closer.

"Uhh…" Spike peered through the ajar door to the guestroom. His whole body flooded with warmth. Buffy Summers was spread about against her bed, her jeans unbuttoned and pulled down to her knees, her hand inside of her black panties, her eyes closed. Christ--she was _touching _herself. He couldn't look away. He watched in fascination as she slid the jeans the rest of the way off, and removed her underwear.

Spike couldn't help but watch.

"Spike…" he heard her say his name as he watched her pleasure increase, her fingers moving with more intent than before. "God…_Spike." _ The experience of hearing her moan his name was too much for him. He fell forward, the door slamming open to reveal Spike in the archway of her room.

"What the…?" She grabbed her jeans, sliding them on without even going for her underwear. "What are you _doing_, pervert?"

"Just catching the show."

"You are disgusting."

"You were thinking of me." She brought a hand to her mouth, covering the expression.

"That's none of your business."

"It is when you're moaning my name." Buffy's eyes widened. Had she really said that _out loud_? She was so lost in the moment that she must have let that dreaded name slip from her lips. Her face fell forward. "Don't be embarrassed, love. It's perfectly natural."

"Just go _away_, Spike." She sniffled. He watched in amazement. Tears were slipping down her cheeks. Part of him felt annoyed at this development--an even larger part felt guilty.

"Fine. Fine. I'll go." Spike closed the bedroom door, leaving a now-sobbing Buffy to turn her face into the pillows.

"What have I done?"


	5. Chapter 5

-1Chapter 4

Spike opened his eyes to see the blonde beauty standing in his doorway. She was dressed in a thin white sundress, her hair loose around her shoulders.

"What are you doing, pet?" He sat up, smoothing a hand through his curls, and waited for an answer. She leaned against the door frame, running one hand up along the engraved wood.

"Coming to see you." She chewed on her lower lip, a habit Spike had witnessed often over the last week he'd known her.

"Why is that?" He suddenly became aware of his own nudity, hidden only by the black jersey sheet covering his lower half. She padded toward him, bare feet with red-painted toenails.

"I want you, Spike." She was at the edge of the bed, hovering above him.

"I want you too, Buffy." He watched in awe as she lifted the hem of her dress, tossing it over her head, leaving her nude body bathed in the soft light coming from his bedside lamp. She crawled across the sheets like a feline, her knees settling on either side of his hips. Then she leaned down and gave him the most fantastic, mind-blowing, skin-melting kiss he'd ever had.

The slam of a car door outside awoke Spike with a start. He blinked open his eyes, stretching his arms over his head. That had been _some _dream. He stood, wrapping his sheet around his waist and opened the curtains of his window. His father's car was parked in the driveway, piled high with luggage. Angel was conversing amiably with Giles and Jenny. A blonde head of hair suddenly entered the picture. Buffy was dressed in a calf-length black pea coat, black flats, and a black headband, holding her waves back from the gentle east coast breeze. He watched as her hand found it's place in the crook of Angel's arm. Angel spun and kissed her daintily on the nose. He said something to her, hugged Jenny goodbye, and got into the backseat of the car as Giles took the driver's seat. Buffy stood on the driveway, alone, as if waiting for something. Then she turned her gaze, her eyes flitting up to Spike's bedroom window as if she knew she was being watched. Her bright green eyes widened at his stare and she gave him a look he could only describe as tragic. Her left hand fluttered at her side, as if she was debating whether or not to wave goodbye. And then she turned away, opened the car door, and slipped inside.

Spike watched the car pull out of the driveway, his heart thumping in anticipation. What did he think was going to happen? That the next morning she'd confess _feelings _for him? That she'd dump Angel on the spot? Of course not. He was a mistake. Buffy's mistake. Just like he'd been Dru's mistake.

--

"I can't believe how stupid I was," Buffy hung her head low, her bare feet dangling against the dorm room carpet as she recounted the Thanksgiving events to her roommate.

"We all make mistakes, Buffy." Willow said thoughtfully. "You can't beat yourself up over it."

"I sure can. I'm _all _about beating up Buffy at the moment. It's like the theme of my life."

"One bad night. It's not like you are having an affair with this guy--what was his name again?"

"Spike."

"Right. Spike. Anyway, you _love _Angel. And you feel bad for what you did, and you've learned from it. You're only human."

"I know. But Angel can tell something's up. But I can't tell him. He won't even touch me for fear of ruining my virtue….I can only imagine what he'd do if he found out I almost let his _step-brother _do it for him."

"You know what you need? A little fun, for once. We are Bronzing it tonight, no excuses!"

--

Spike sat on the dilapidated couch and thumbed at his guitar. The chord came out brassy and metallic.

"Dude--what is up with you?" Clem asked, his stringy black hair falling into his eyes. Frank Clement was Spike's only real friend, and the drummer of Spike's band, Vampire.

"Seriously, Spike. You're killing the vibe." Hallie, a curly haired brunette looked up from her bass guitar.

"Jus' need a break is all." Spike set his Gibson down and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "A nice smoke and I'll focus."

"Spike.." Hallie plopped down on the couch next to him and pulled out a tube of red lipstick. She smoothed the crimson color over her lips and smacked. "What's got you down?"

"Jus' had a hell of a week with the family is all." Spike took a drag of his cigarette. "But now Angel and his brat of a girlfriend are back in California and things can finally get back to normal."

"Are you talking about the blonde girl who was with Angel at Gunn's party last week? Smokin' man." Clem licked his lower lip and wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, if bitchy, bossy, and prude is your style, spose' so."

"Those things can be overlooked, my man." Spike couldn't help but laugh. Clem had been convinced he was a playboy since the 7th grade, but nothing could be further from the truth. If his greasy hair wasn't enough to scare off the ladies, his pock-marked face certainly was.

"Not if the aforementioned face won't shut it's giant, gaping hole."

"You're harboring some serious resentment for this girl. It's not healthy." Clem frowned at his buddy.

_Probably not, _Spike thought. _But it's better than thinking about her all God damn day. _

--

The pulsating lights made Buffy's whole body twitch as she sipped on her virgin pina colada. She had pretty much sworn off alcohol after the past disastrous week in New York. Willow was seated across the round table with her boyfriend of almost a year, Oz. Oz was sporting purple tips in his hair today--something that changed almost weekly. Next to Willow and Oz were the other "It" couple of the group, Xander and Anya. Buffy was suddenly aware of how alone she felt in this mess of coupledom.

"So, Buff, where's Captain Cardboard tonight?" Xander inquired, his tone full of dislike.

"Easy, Xan," Buffy warned. Xander had always had it out for Angel, though she could never figure out why. "And Angel's got some football stuff. You know, practice or something." Buffy shrugged. To be honest, she wasn't completely sure _what _Angel was doing. When she'd invited him, he'd mumbled something about a team meeting and Buffy didn't pry. Being around Angel at the moment was too awkward anyway.

"If there's football stuff going on, why is Riley Finn here tonight?" Anya asked curiously. Buffy knew she wasn't the suspicious type, just the kind of person to point out the obvious. Buffy 's eyes darted across the club where she spotted three of Angel's teammates--Riley Finn, Parker Abrams, and Graham Miller.

"I guess I'll find out." Buffy scooted off the bar stool and marched across the club, drink in hand. Hey guys!" She said as she approached the trio.

"Buffy! Hey!" Riley smiled at her. Buffy knew he'd always had a little crush on her and he always seemed nothing short of delighted to see her. Parker and Graham, who were less friendly with her, smiled cordially in her direction.

"How was your team meeting?"

"Meeting?" Riley looked around, confused. "You mean before Fall break?"

"No, I mean tonight." Riley shuffled on his feet for a second.

"We didn't have a meeting tonight, Buffy. You must be mistaken."

"Oh," Buffy chewed on her straw for a second. "Well, I must be confused. Sorry guys."

"No problem. Always good to see a friendly face in a place like this." Riley smiled that Iowa boy smile.

"Well, I'll see you later." Buffy backed up and turned around, heading back to her table.

"What do you think that was all about?" Graham inquired, his intense eyes narrowing towards the retreating figure.

"Probably just trying to make conversation." Riley smiled and grabbed a pool stick from the wall.

"Sounds like Angel tried to feed her some sort of story," Parker smiled wickedly, "That's my boy."

"I don't think Angel would do that to Buffy, Parker."

"Whatever, Finn. Just because you're white-bread doesn't mean we all are. You didn't know Angel _last _year."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Angel wasn't always so monogamous, this is a new development. He used to be _the man. _New girls every night."

"I hardly classify that as _the man_." Riley rolled his eyes and looked at Buffy, who was now dancing across the room in a crowd of friends. Riley was well-aware that his unrequited crush was never going anywhere, but it didn't stop him from having her best interests at heart.

--

Buffy and Willow entered the dorm room shortly after one am, their hair mussed from too much dancing and makeup smudged.

"God, I smell like a hockey player." Buffy giggled as she collapsed onto her bed.

"And I _look _like one," Willow laughed as she pulled her fingers through the sweaty mass of red hair.

"Thanks for forcing me to go out, Will. I had a good time." Buffy kicked off her shoes and changed into her pajamas. Suddenly her cell phone started to ring. She grabbed it out of her purse--it was a number she definitely didn't recognize. "Hello?"

"Hello." A smooth British voice replied.

"Who is this?" Buffy asked, though deep-down she felt very sure of who was calling.

"Don't be daft, Summers." Buffy grimaced and slipped out of the room, mouthing to Willow that she'd be right back. Once safely in the hallway, she spoke again.

"_Spike?"_

"The one and only."

"Why are you calling me? And how did you get my number?"

"It's listed on the school website. You should really be careful about that, might get all sorts of strangers callin' you up."

"Um, like _you?"_

"I'm no stranger. At least I wasn't a few nights ago…"

_"_Do _not _talk about that ever again or I'll fly back to New York and give you a good ass kicking."

"I'm shakin' in my combat boots."

"Seriously, Spike, why are you calling me?"

"Just fancied a chat, that's all."

"A chat? About what? What is there that we could possibly talk about? We had one night together which meant absolutely _nothing _to either of us. There's nothing to say. I don't know if this is you feeling guilty or just trying to mess with my head, but forget it, Spike." Buffy listened to the stunned silence on the other end of the phone.

"You're right. Just because we shared one _very _mediocre night together doesn't change the fact that you're still a pretentious, stuck-up little brat."

"Mediocre?" Buffy's shocked voice resounded through the hallway.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Now I've got more important things to do than talk to some Beverly Hills bitch like yourself."

"Fine!" Buffy hung up the phone and stamped her foot in frustration. "I've never even _been _to Beverly Hills!" Buffy protested to no one in particular. A boy who was reading in the common room down the hall gave her a strange look and she shrugged, dashing back into the dorm room.

"What was that all about?" Willow asked as Buffy tossed her cell phone into her purse and plopped down on the bed.

"Just some random caller harassing me. That's what I get for letting the school list my cell on the online contacts page."

--

Spike stared down at the phone in his hand. His fist crumpled in rage. How _dare _she? He glared back into the bar where he'd been romancing a random blonde named Kathy or something (thank God for fake Ids). He'd grown bored of her insipid stories and after about twenty minutes and four beers, ducked into the back area to call Buffy. He wasn't sure _why _he'd thought the notion was a good one, but he was glad he called. Kathy seemed like a sweetheart compared to the bint he'd just been conversing with. He stepped back into the bar and sidled down next to the woman, who was dressed in a purple tube top and black short shorts. Spike wondered if she was freezing in the crisp December air.

"Sorry, pet. Had to make that call."

"It's okay, baby." Kathy looked up at him with wide blue eyes, hazy from too much alcohol. She smelled of cheap perfume and stale smoke, but she was still reasonably attractive. "So anyway, I was telling you all about my Pomeranian, Honey Dew."

"Uh, yeah. Say doll, why don't we head back to your place?"

--

Saturday night was the first time Angel and Buffy had really hung out since their return from New York. Angel kept claiming football meetings, enough so that Buffy was doubtful it was simply a miscommunication. How many things could be categorized as a "football meeting" after all?

On this particular evening, they were sitting at a small coffee shop near campus--Angel sipping on a black coffee and Buffy indulging in a hot chocolate. She was never one for caffeine--she was neurotic enough without it.

"So, how was your meeting?" Buffy sipped on her drink and grabbed a biscotti from the canister between them.

"It was okay."

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages." Buffy cocked her head at him and grabbed for his hand, squeezing it.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just feel like you've been distant since we got back from New York, Buffy. I feel like I've done something to upset you." Buffy swallowed the guilt that was rising up her esophagus in the form of bile.

"You didn't do _anything _wrong, Angel. It's my fault. I've just been…stressed. No big deal."

"I understand. Anyway, I've been meaning to tell you something."

"Oh, yeah?" Buffy sighed, relieved that he had bought her extremely vague excuse.

"Are you going to be around for Christmas break this year?"

"Probably. Mom's got another big gallery thing in Aspen and my dad is probably vacationing in some tropic locale with his new Stepford wife."

"Good, because it turns out that my mom and Giles are coming out for the break."

"Oh," Buffy smiled weakly.

"They're going to be staying at the Sunnydale Grand so they'll only be a five minute walk from campus. Isn't that great?"

"Yeah. Where will Spike be staying?" Buffy's eyelashes fluttered down as she said his name.

"Oh, Spike? He's not coming. Don't worry, baby. I know you two don't get along."

"Oh, it's not that--"

"It's okay. He's hard to get along with, I understand…believe me." Buffy felt a huge weight liftoff of her shoulders. She liked Giles and Jenny--and as long as Spike wasn't going to be in the picture, she could imagine the four of them would have a really nice holiday together. Plus, hanging out at the Sunnydale Grand? _Swanky!_


	6. Chapter 6

-1A/N: Phi Beta is probably a real frat/sorority somewhere in this world. Never having been a connoisseur of Greek life, I wouldn't know. I just grabbed some Greek letters and made up a name. No infringement intended and I'm not trying to represent any group of people here. So…yes!

"Do you think they'll like this?" Buffy held up a cast iron sconce, eyeing it critically.

"They'll like anything you get them." Angel glanced at the sconce briefly and went back to picking through a display of paintings.

"Christmas shopping makes my insides hurt." Buffy frowned and fiddled with the cowl neck of her cream colored sweater.

"What about _getting _presents?" Angel raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a thin-lipped smile.

"_Getting _is so much easier." Buffy walked across the store, to a display of cooking utensils. She picked up the various bowls, spoons, and potholders, inspecting them for some sign that they were the _perfect _gift for Giles and Jenny. The department store seemed to have everything…which wasn't enough for Buffy to make a good purchase, apparently. It was then that she spotted a dilapidated stand set up outside the front doors of the store. "I'll be right back." She called to her preoccupied boyfriend as she shuffled out the front doors.

"What did you find?" Angel asked, as Buffy ran back into the store a few minutes later, a brown sack in hand. Buffy fished into the sack and pulled out a leather bound book with the words _Vampyr _engraved into the cover.

"You know how he loves all that ancient fantasy stuff!" Buffy smoothed her hand over the cover and then flipped it open. "And," she tugged a small square envelope out of the front cover. "It came with a new CD version, created independently! Now Jenny can use the computer since she's all techno-savvy!" Buffy clapped her hands together like a small child.

"Those are great gifts, Buffy. They'll love them." Angel kissed her on the forehead and they wandered, satisfied, out of the store. "Now, we should probably start looking for stuff for formal, right?"

"Huh?"

"Phi Beta's Winter Formal? It's on the twenty-first, remember?"

"Oh…yeah." Buffy smiled cautiously, cringing inwardly. Angel (along with most of his football buddies) were all members of Phi Beta, the most prestigious frat on campus. Most of the members were athletes hailing from old money--Angel fit in perfectly. Buffy, however, was much for the Greek life. Ever since she'd attended a frat party her senior year of high school and practically been molested by a slobbering frat guy with too much hair gel, she'd sworn them off in general. Angel hadn't mentioned his membership until she'd fallen hard and she'd been able to ignore that one facet of his personality in favor of everything else that was so dreamy about him.

"Is something wrong? Do you have plans that night?"

"No, nothing's wrong, I just forgot."

--

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us? I feel awful knowing you're going to be all alone in this huge house for Christmas." Jenny screwed up her face and leaned forward so that her elbows were propping her against the kitchen counter.

"I won't be alone. I'm going to go to Clem's." Spike lied, trying to reassure his worried step-mother. She'd been quite upset when he'd first refused to join them on their five-week vacation to Sunnydale for Angel's school break, but now she just seemed worried. Truth be told, he would have loved to get out of New York for a while, but he couldn't bear the thought of being stuck with his entire family (plus one girl he'd been trying actively not to think about) for more than a month. Not that being stuck _here_ would be much better. He'd been in hiding for the last week, hiding out from that awful girl he'd gone with the previous week. She'd been attractive (at least with beer goggles firmly in place) and usually this was the only prerequisite for a full night of Spike lovin'. But the entire night had been a disaster. They'd stumbled into her pink-themed apartment a little after three-am and spent a good twenty minutes making out like high-schoolers on her couch. But when she'd tried to up the ante, Spike had found himself completely unable to…well…_perform. _That had _never _happened. Never. It was the one thing he couldn't possibly have failed at--and he did. She'd thrown him out, yelling some anecdote or excuse and he'd spent the night in his car, with his tail between his legs. Apparently, the entire incident had lowered her self-esteem a few notches, because she'd been calling three or four times a night for the last six days. He ignored her of course--he'd become well-aware that his problem wasn't going to be easily fixed. _Whiskey dick_, he'd tried to reason. _That fluffy pink apartment, _he'd thought. _Her damn Pomeranian barking, _he'd excused. But Spike knew he couldn't blame any of those things solely for his inability to resume his player antics.

_Buffy. _It was _her _fault.

--

Buffy knew what she had to do. It was the only way. As she walked into the dreaded room, an enemy clutching at her wrist, her heart skipped a beat.

"What's with the freak-out face, Buffy? God, you can be so weird." Cordelia Chase dropped Buffy's waist and rolled her eyes at the red-faced girl. "I mean, it's like you've never been in a lingerie store before." Buffy looked around at the red velvet walls, the plush white carpet, and the display racks of lacy balconette bras and gulped.

"Of course I have, Cordelia."

"Right." Cordelia snorted and tossed her thick dark hair over her shoulder. Buffy had known Cordelia Chase since high-school. She didn't really _like _her. It was more like _tolerated_. In fact, they'd been bitter enemies in high school--rivals at cheerleading tryouts, homecoming elections, even dating. But when Buffy had started dating Angel, she'd been forced to hobnob with the other "football girlfriends". Cordelia had briefly dated (well, _fucked_ would be a better word) one of Angel's teammates and had since been initiated into the group of friends he surrounded himself with. Buffy hadn't really wanted to spend the day with Cordelia--but Anya was busy and she couldn't exactly ask Willow to go lingerie shopping with her. The shy redhead would probably faint at first sight of a pair of crotch less panty.

"How about this?" Buffy held up a pink cotton tank top and matching boy-shorts.

"_Bo-_ring." Cordelia snatched the offending item away and tossed it back into the bargain bin. "You obviously know nothing about men." Buffy didn't answer that comment--it was probably true. After all, she'd hooked up with her boyfriend's step-brother, hadn't gotten into her _boyfriend's _pants yet, and was largely unaware of how to make that happen. Her only idea (and that was after hours of deliberation) was lingerie. She'd wear it under her dress for winter formal, and at just the right time, she'd show him what was under all the pretty wrapping. He couldn't resist that…right?

"This?" Buffy held up a white lacey bra with a pink rosette in the center.

"That's fine, I guess. But I bet he'd prefer _this_." Cordelia held up a set that was decidedly out of Buffy's comfort range.

"Um.." She eyed it nervously.

"Just try it on." Cordelia shoved the fabric into Buffy's hands and pushed her past a satin curtain and into the dressing room. Buffy looked down at the lingerie and then at the mirror. She couldn't put two and two together. Her, this petite girl with long, straight hair, jeans, and a plain green tee-shirt? She was a Bible and a pair Mary-Janes away from Sunday school. She unbuttoned her jeans, tossed them onto the floor, and proceeded to change into the outfit. She peeked out of the curtain.

"Cordy?"

"Well, come out then." Cordelia sat down on the red chaise lounge that was sitting in the center on the dressing room. Buffy stuck one leg out of the curtain, hesitating. "Oh for Christ's sake, this isn't your 3rd grade piano recital, Buffy."

"Sorry." Buffy pushed the curtain aside. She was dressed in a boned corset, that was covered in black satin. The bodice of the top was decorated with red ribbon threaded vertically along the boning off the corset. Her breasts were pushed up into impressive cleavage (she didn't even know she could _have _cleavage, honestly) with low cups accentuated by three rows of red ruffles that ran from one side of each cup to the other. The look was topped off with a big black bow that hung in the center, just below the cups. On the bottom, she wore black satin boy short panties and black thigh-highs with a black back seam that ended with a tiny red bow at the top of each nylon. She tugged uncomfortably at one of the thigh-highs.

"I hate to say this Buffy," Cordelia tapped one perfectly manicured nail on her knee, "But you look _hot_."

"I do?"

"Surprisingly, yes. And you know--if you cut that freakishly long hair, I might even vote you as a 7. Or an 8."

"Gee, thanks."

"Here to help. What do you say--can we chop off that hair?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope." Cordelia smiled devilishly.

--

Buffy walked sullenly behind Angel, her hands clutched into little fists at her sides. She'd spent the afternoon with Cordelia, allowing her to work her evil girly magic. She'd come out of the experiment with three new-outfits, one set of lingerie, a new haircut, new makeup, and ready to wow Angel.

But he hadn't even noticed. She'd flounced into his dorm room, dressed in her newest come-fuck-me outfit, and he'd said nothing. _Nothing. _From the time they'd left the room, driven to the airport, and walked through the airport, she'd been waiting for him to saying something--anything. Just a "you look nice" would have sufficed. If her look was enough to wow _Cordelia, _it should have been enough for him.

"We should hurry," Angel said to her, "They landed about five minutes ago, so they'll be at baggage claim soon."

"I know." Buffy said, annoyance evident in her voice.

As the couple arrived in baggage claim, Buffy sat her leather purse down on the floor next to her feet and grabbed Angel by the bicep. She tugged him towards her, grabbed his head, and pulled his face down to meet hers.

"What are you doing, baby?" Angel lifted his head and smiled down at her.

"What does it look like?" She pulled him back down and crushed her lips to his.

--

He spotted them as soon as he entered baggage claim. The little blonde, kissing Angel hungrily, as she stretched up to meet his face. She looked _different. _Her armpit-length hair was cut into a choppy new hairstyle that fell just below her shoulders and it was blonder than before--less 'natural hippie blonde' and more 'bronzed California girl' blonde. His eyes traveled up her figure, from her tight skinny jeans and sky-high black heels, to her lacy top. The long-sleeved, v-neck top was made of nothing was black, intricate lace and beneath it she wore a black spaghetti strap top. In short, she looked _tantalizing. _She pulled away from Angel, eyes focusing in the distance, suddenly landed on his approaching figure, flanked at each side by Jenny and Giles.

"Spike?" Her voice was cold.

"Hey Buffy."


	7. Chapter 7

-1A/N: Thanks so much for the positive reviews! They make me feel so great and definitely get my desire to write to skyrocket. Keep it up, you all rock! The song used toward the end of this chapter is "She's So High" by Tal Bachman. I love it and I think it fits perfectly how Spike feels about Buffy…

Buffy's mouth went dry. _Spike _was standing in front of her, sandwiched between Giles and Jenny, who looked positively delighted to see them. Him, with his peroxide hair and signature black coat--Him, with that cocky smile, bright blue eyes, and smirk, just looking at her like it was all a big joke.

"Hello." She dropped Angel's hand, shuffling in her new heels.

_Those are some shoes, _Spike thought to himself. The black leather heels had a strap over her toes and then several more straps that wound up her foot and buckled at the ankle. For a moment, he imagined what she'd look like with _just _the shoes on, but the nagging voice of his step-brother snapped him from his rather pleasant daydream.

"I thought you weren't coming," Angel mused as he grabbed the suitcases from his mother and step-father.

"The pipes in the upstairs bathroom broke, Angel." Jenny added, frowning. "The plumbers are going to be there day and night re-piping the whole place."

"So here I am." Spike held out his hands and shrugged lazily. "I've got another bag that should be coming. Buffy, give me a hand, love." He smiled at her and nodded his head in the direction of the baggage belt.

"Uh, sure." Buffy looked around, realizing no one was going to help her out of this potentially awkward situation. She followed Spike across the baggage claim and over to the belt that was carrying the luggage from Flight 437 from JFK.

"I like the hair." Spike said, offhand, as he hunted for his suitcase.

"Thanks."

"We match." Spike pointed to his bleach blonde locks and grinned.

"What are you doing?" Buffy placed a hand on her hip and narrowed her green eyes at him.

"Makin' conversation."

"With me?"

"Yes, with you. What, just because you whored it up for half an hour, you can't be civil to me? Guilt got you all angsty?"

"First of all, I did not _whore it up. _And _no, _I can't be civil with someone like you."

"That's rich, Summers. Just rich. You're a real bitch, you know that?" Spike grabbed his suitcase from the line of luggage and swung it up over his shoulder.

"Like your opinion matters to me." Buffy swung her newly cut hair over her shoulder and stomped off, her sexy little heels clicking on the shiny airport floor.

--

"I can't _believe _he decided to come!" Buffy flopped back onto her pillow.

"It can't be _that _bad, Buffy. Just avoid him." Willow said through mouthfuls of chips and salsa.

"Oh, it can be that bad. It _is_ that bad. This is the Big Bad!"

"Do you think he's going to tell Angel?"

"Not if he wants his life." Buffy grabbed a handful of Willow's chips and stuffed them into her mouth. "It's so unfortunate. A guy that good-looking shouldn't be such an asshole."

"You think he's good-looking?"

"No!"

"But you just said-"

"He is _not _good-looking. He's a total Billy Idol wannabe. He's marginal. Boring. Uneducated."

"Tell me how you _really _feel." Willow grinned.

"Sorry…I got carried away. He just makes me so aggravated!"

"You know, Oz used to make me feel that way when we met in high school. He was so ominous with his dry humor…it made my insides jelly. Hence resentment."

"Yeah, but Oz is _nice. _His aggravating qualities have some redemption. Spike is just…Spike."

Suddenly, a hard knocking came at the dorm room door. Willow jumped off of her twin bed and swung open the door.

"Oh, hey Angel."

"Hi, Willow." Angel smiled good-naturedly and ducked into the room.

"Hey, Angel. What's up?" Buffy stretched her toes out in front of her and smiled up at him.

"My mom and Giles are having a movie night at the penthouse. I've come with strict orders to bring you back with me." Buffy looked at Willow.

"It's okay. Go ahead. I'll make Oz come snuggle me."

"Just let me change." She pointed to her yummy sushi pajamas and laughed.

"No, no! Come like that. We're all in pajamas."

--

Angel was reclining against the chaise lounge, his broad shoulders square against the back, with Buffy leaning into him like a chair. She was snuggled up on him in those disgustingly cute yummy sushi pajamas, her hair in a short stub of a ponytail. Spike eyed them from across the room, where he was seated on the black loveseat. Giles and Jenny were side by side on the couch in between them, engrossed in the move in front of them.

Spike wasn't even sure was movie was playing--something with a lot of sappy music and a cute puppy--he was too engrossed in the scene of Buffy and his step-brother. How _dare _she parade around like some sort of innocent? It was as if their little 'tryst' was only a very wonderful dream he'd concocted in his own, deranged mind.

Suddenly, the credits rolled onscreen and Jenny clapped her hands together quietly.

"What a good movie!" She whispered, looking over at Angel, who was fast asleep behind Buffy.

"Well," Buffy scooted off of the lounge and smoothed out the pants of her pajamas, "I should be probably wake him up to take me home."

"Oh nonsense, Buffy. Let him sleep. Spike can walk you home, you're only a few minutes."

"Oh, no-" Buffy started, her palms sweating.

"I'd be happy to." Spike jumped up, smiling at her with triumph.

"See? He doesn't mind at all."

"Oh, well.." Buffy looked from Jenny to Giles to Spike. "Thank you."

"It was a pleasure." Giles stuck out his hand good-naturedly.

"Shall we?" Spike stuck out his arm, the tip of his pink tongue taunting her from the corner of his mouth.

"We shall." Buffy replied through gritted teeth, following him across the hotel suite and out the door.

"What do you think you're doing?" Buffy exclaimed as they reached the elevator lobby.

"Walkin' you home." Spike pressed the down button.

"_Why?_ I'm a big bitch, remember?" Buffy curled her toes up inside her furry lined slippers and looked him right in the eye.

"Can you try shutting your yap for once, Summers? We might actually get along if you just let it happen." Spike pressed the button several more times impatiently.

"Pressing it a gajillion times doesn't make the elevator come any faster."

"Does too." He pressed it again.

"Does not."

"Does too." And again.

"Don't be stupid."

"'m not." The elevator in front of them opened up, the yellow 'down' arrow illuminating with a ping. "Told you." Spike smiled cheekily and walked into the elevator. Buffy rolled her eyes and followed him in, her hands shoved in the pockets of her pajama pants. Silence took over while the elevator rode down seventeen floors and finally stopped at the lobby of the hotel. As they pressed through the double doors at the front of the building, Buffy suddenly stopped. "You okay, pet?"

"I'm sorry." She grumbled, eyes facing the ground.

"What's that?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did what I did with you--I'm sorry I ran off the next day without talking to you--I'm sorry about being a bitch. You're not my favorite person in the world, Spike, but I'm _not _a bitch. It's just not me." Spike looked her up and down for a moment.

"I know. You're all sweater sets and sushi-covered pajamas."

"That's not all I am." She squeaked prudently.

"_Oh_, I know." Spike cocked an eyebrow at her suggestively.

"Ugh!" Buffy through her hands up in frustration. "I'm an idiot for ever thinking you could be mature about this." She marched up ahead of him. "Now I'm going home, so if you want to 'walk me' you better damn well follow." Spike practically ran to catch up with the marching blonde, who looked ridiculous crossing the street in her pjs and fluffy pink slippers, ponytail bobbing.

"Look, look, I'm an asshole, okay?" Spike caught up to her and grabbed her by the wrist. She shook his hand away.

"Yes, we've covered that."

"I can't help it. It's like some sort of disease." Buffy laughed. "Ah, there, see? I made you laugh."

"You did not." Buffy was pursing her lips together in an attempt to prevent the giggles from spilling from her girth.

"I did!" He poked at her ribcage and she let one chuckle escape from her tightly clamped mouth.

"Fine, fine--you made me laugh." She giggled, grasping at her belly. "We're here." She looked at up at the looming building.

"Well, I'm a gentlemen--"

"No you're not!"

"Well, no, but I'll walk to you to the door anyway." Buffy shrugged.

"Fine with me." They passed under the archway, through the front door, and up the staircase to Buffy's floor. They stopped in front of the door which was decorated with a white-board and two colorful nametags declaring the room as belonging to "Buffy Summers--Sunnydale, CA" and "Willow Rosenberg--Sunnydale, CA."

"Have yourself a good night, yeah?" Spike nodded toward the door and Buffy placed her hand on the doorknob, digging in her purse for her keys.

"Yeah, I will. Thanks…for the walk." She smiled weakly at him as she fished the heavy keychain from her bag and unlocked the door.

"I'll see you later." Spike did a finger wave, smiled, and turned to go.

"Hey, Spike?" He turned back around.

"You're not that much of an asshole, I guess." Buffy was almost completely in the room, just her head peeking out of the doorway.

"Thanks, pet." And with that, he turned and walked down the hallway, the world suddenly lighter underneath his feet.

--

"How about this one?" Jenny wandered up to a large Blue Spruce, fluffing up it's branches.

"There's a hole, here." Giles pointed to a sparse area, frowning. Buffy watched, overjoyed. She'd never had a real Christmas tree--both her parents had always insisted on artificial trees. She always found that kind of a cop-out--two trees and they were _both _fake? She'd been under the impressed that kids of divorce got two of the _good _things in life.

She also appreciated the way that both Giles and Jenny wore cable-knit sweaters and thin gloves, even though it was still sixty degrees outside. She supposed it was hard to break the east coat habit of being bundled in down coats come December. She and Angel were trailing behind the excited couple, watching as they turned down tree after tree. Spike stalked behind the group, as Jenny had instructed, to keep his plume of smoke from bothering them.

"'Ow about this one?" He called from the back of the group. They all turned. Spike was standing next to a tree that couldn't have been even four feet tall, with few branches, and even fewer needles.

"It's kind of pathetic." Buffy said softly, the corners of her lips perking up.

"I feel sorry for it." Angel added in agreement.

"I'm buying it for my room at the penthouse." Spike hoisted the tiny tree out of it's holder and lumbered towards the employees of the nursery.

"This can only be explained by the fact that he is _your _son, Rupert." Jenny playfully punched her husband in the arm and he smiled good-naturedly.

"To be honest, I'm not sure I understand him these days, myself." Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them, a habit Buffy had witnessed an alarming amount over the past week.

"So, Buffy…are you going to get a tree for the dorm this year?" Angel asked.

"I'm pretty sure that's against policy. No live trees, no hot plates, no candles."

"No candles? But Willow's got them set up all over the room.."

"I know," Buffy rolled her eyes, "Maybe she's a witch and uses them for _spells_." Angel chuckled.

"Right. A witch. Wrong month, babe."

"Or maybe she's one of Santa's Helpers?"

"The joke ended, sweetheart." Buffy blushed bright red. She'd never known when to end a joke…she just kept beating the dead horse, which often ended up in looks of either amusement or total horror.

The couple turned as they heard a yell of excitement come from Jenny.

"Look! I've found it!" Jenny was smiling up at a positively massive tree, that was a deep green color with perfectly even branch spacing.

"Very nice, dear." Giles nodded.

"It's great, Mom." Angel agreed.

"Well, then," Giles said, replacing his glasses, "I'll go grab an attendant and we can get this back to the hotel."

"Buffy, why don't you go back to the car and wait for us while we get the tree packed up?" Buffy looked up at Angel, who was untying the rope from the trunk of the massive tree.

"Okay."

Once she got to the car, she watching in near hysterics as Spike attempted to load his tree carefully into the trunk.

"You know, there's five of us in that thing. You can't fold down the backseat." Spike spun around, red-faced.

"Right." He pulled the backseats into their regular position and then stared at his pathetic little tree in confusion.

"Why did you buy that thing anyway?" She gestured at the tree he was now holding limply at his side.

"I guess I felt bad for the little guy."

"It's a tree, Spike."

"I don't need to explain anything to you, Summers." He yanked the tree under his armpit protectively.

"Ok. Right. Anyway, look, we can probably just lay it across our laps in the back. It's not very heavy looking. _You _can lift it, after all."

"Is that a crack at my strength? Because, mind you, I'm very strong." Spike flexed his bicep, grinning cheekily.

"Trying to win over my girl?" Angel came up behind the pair, carrying the tip of the tree over his shoulder, Giles in the back supporting the trunk.

"Yes, since we have very similar taste and all." Spike helped Angel and Giles hoist the tree on top of the rental car as Jenny flung ropes from one side to the other. As soon as the tree was secured on top of the car, Buffy couldn't help but laugh.

"What's funny, love?" Angel admired their handiwork, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Is that legal? That thing is longer than the car!" Buffy exclaimed, watching the tip of the tree droop dangerously close to the window.

"It'll be okay. We're only about five miles from the hotel." Jenny reasoned, hopping into the passenger seat. Giles looked up at the tree anxiously.

"Your mum insisted on the Range Rover," he explained to Angel. "If we scratch this thing, we won't get the monstrous deposit back."

"Like losing a few hundred bucks would put a huge dent in your pocket, da." Spike laughed as he slid his tiny tree over Buffy, Angel, and himself.

"That's not the point, William. It's not frugal." Giles started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"These pine needles are practically piercing my legs." Buffy complained, lifting the branches from her bare thighs.

"Wasn't a very practical outfit for picking out the tree, now was it?" Spike pressed down on the tree, forcing the needles to poke her flesh even harder.

"Ouch!" Buffy reached out from her seat in the center and smacked him playfully on the head.

"Hey! Don't hit me!" Spike wagged his tongue at her.

"So--" Angel started, causing Spike to stop his thrashing around. "Riley and the guys were thinking of renting a limo for the formal."

"Oh, nice." Buffy smiled, peeling a fallen pine needle from her leg.

"You guys goin' to Prom? How precious." Spike chided.

"It's a formal for the _fraternity_, Spike." Angel corrected, inspecting his hair in the reflection of the window.

"Same thing." He shrugged. Buffy made eye contact and widened her orbs in a way that said _I totally agree. _"Maybe I'll have to make an appearance. Get myself a hot little sister or--"

"Ew!" Buffy exclaimed.

"What?"

"_Sister?!" _

"Bugger--_Sorority _sister. Don't be so sick, Summers."

"It doesn't matter anyway. You can't go if you're not in Greek life." Buffy retorted.

"All right, everyone out," Giles announced as they arrived at the hotel's valet station. "You'll see this tree gets to the penthouse?" He nodded at the valet guy.

"Yes, sir." The boy said with enough enthusiasm that Buffy could've heard him a mile away. "I'll take that." The boy made a grab for the tree in Spike's arms.

"No!" He said a little too forcefully. "I mean, No. I'll take it myself."

--

"Wait--what?" Buffy stared at her roommate with wide-eyes, who was standing on front of their full length mirror, her red locks pulled atop her head in a high bun.

"I asked if you thought this bun would look good for the Phi Beta Formal."

"Well, yes. But why are you going to the formal? Oz isn't a brother."

"Dingoes Ate My Baby is playing at the dance." Willow explained, referencing her high-school sweetheart's popular local band.

"That's awesome, Will!" Buffy leaped off of her bed. "That night won't be so tortuous now!"

"Tortuous? What are you talking about? Dancing? Punch? Limos? It's like prom, but better!"

"You don't know much about Greek life, my friend."

"I _do _know that Xander will be there." Willow spun around, grinning.

"Oh my God…I completely forget Anya pledged Delta Zeta. That's awesome. The Scoobys, together again." Buffy put her arm around Willow.

"So…how are things with Spike?" Buffy dropped her arm from Willow's shoulders.

"Don't rain on my parade!" She pouted, sticking out her lower lip.

"I just mean…he dropped you off the other night and you didn't seem homicidal--which is good--and then today you returned from _another _day with the family positively _love_-struck."

"The love-struck-ness is from Angel, my _boyfriend_. I'm just in a better mood because I realized he's tolerable. Completely insane. But tolerable, yes."

"Just don't make with the smoochies again, okay?"

"Ew! _No!_"

"Whatever you say.."

--

"I like the new hair, Buffy. Your last hair kind of made you look like an uptight prude with absolutely no sense of fun. This is much better!" Anya said brightly from her place across the table.

"Thanks, Anya." Buffy smiled wearily. Buffy, Anya, Xander, Angel, Oz, and Willow were all seated at a round table at the Bronze. Buffy, in fact, was amazed she'd gotten Angel to join their group outings. He was always pleasant to her friends, but had never made much of an effort to get to know them. Xander was the only one who had ever expressed outright dislike, but no one had ever said much about liking him either.

So, Angel…your family is in town?" Willow asked, attempting to make conversation with the stoic man.

"Yes. In fact, Spike should be joining us in just a few minutes."

"What?" Buffy said, her voice a little too high-pitched.

"Yeah, my mom made me invite him. I know he's a pain, Buffy, but he's all alone--"

"Speaking of." Buffy said, cutting Angel off mid-sentence. She bobbed her head toward the entrance to the club, where Spike had just walked in, dressed in his trademark duster and combat boots. He spotted their table and made his way toward them.

"Everyone, this is Angel's stepbrother, Spike. Yes, the name is weird, I know."

"I think it's kind of sexy and phallic." Anya grinned.

"And this is Anya, Spike. She needs no introducing!"

"I like my ladies blunt anyway." He stuck out his hand and Anya took it.

"I'm Xander." Xander wrapped a protective arm around his girlfriend and glared at the peroxide blonde. Spike nodded in his direction.

"Willow." Willow grinned shyly, tucking her red hair behind her ears.

"Nice to meet you, Red."

"Oz." Oz said dryly. Buffy noticed that the tips of his hair were now a vibrant pink and he was sporting a new lip ring.

"Well, hopefully you're all more exciting than big bro here." Spike slapped Angel on the shoulder condescendingly and mimed falling asleep. The group busted into laughter, each silently agreeing with Spike's conclusion.

"Xander! Let's go dance!" Anya slid off her chair and grabbed Xander by the wrist.

"Oh, acknowledge my glee at that statement." Xander said to the table, frowning.

"If you'll dance with me, then tonight we can--" Anya made an O with her index finger and thumb and mimed poking her opposite pointer finger through the hole.

"Have I ever told you I _love _dancing?" Xander followed behind Anya like a lovesick puppy and the two made their way to the dance floor.

"I like that bird." Spike observed.

"Too bad she's _taken_." Buffy waved her finger at him in the "no no" fashion.

"Just because I appreciate her communication style doesn't mean I want to sweep her off her feet, Summers. Presume, much?"

"I'm making a bar run," Willow cut in cautiously. "You guys want anything?"

"Hot chocolate, love?" Spike handed her a wad of bills. "And get the rest of the table while you're at it."

"Wow, thanks!" Willow said, pocketing the cash. Buffy looked across the table at Oz, who, true to form, was engrossing in the band playing onstage. She looked at Angel, realizing he hadn't said a word for the last fifteen minutes.

"Angel? Are you ok?"

"Fine, Buffy." Angel's eyes were planted at the far end of the club, where a couple of his frat brothers were drinking beer and playing pool with some girls. "I'll be right back."

"Um, okay." Buffy watched in confusion as he wandered off toward his friends.

"He really showers you with attention, doesn't he?" Spike said sarcastically.

"Shut up." Buffy was about to say more when Willow came back with a tray full of drinks.

"Here's your hot chocolate, Spike."

"You're an angel, Red. Oz is a lucky man." Willow glowed and then turned back to the tray, wobbling a bit.

"And uh, a lemonade for Buffy."

"You know me so well." Buffy grabbed the drink, fiddling with the pink umbrella hanging from the brim.

"A Coke for the caffeine addict." She dunked the drink in front of Oz. "And a water for me!" Buffy looked at Willow blankly for a moment.

"Thanks, Will…but what about Angel?"

"Oh my God! I completely forgot he was even here! I'm sorry…I'll go back."

"No, no it's okay." Buffy sipped on her lemonade. "He won't be back for a while anyway."

"Oh, here's your change." Willow dug into her pocket and held out a few bills to Spike.

"Keep it, Red. You'll need to keep hydrated." He winked.

"How chivalrous, Spike. Hot chocolate, really?" Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"What? I like the little marshmallows. Sue me." Buffy laughed. "What's so funny?"

"You have a hot-chocolate mustache!" She exclaimed. "You look like Ron Jeremy!" Spike wiped the liquid from his upper lip, rolling his eyes.

"Let's dance!" Willow was tugging at Oz's arm. He shrugged. "You coming, Buffy?"

"Oh, I don't know. Angel looks like he's going to be a while." Buffy looked over to where Angel was talking to Cordelia Chase and Harmony Kendall. Harmony was flipping her obnoxiously long blonde hair over her shoulder and practically dunking Angels' face in her cleavage. _God, she's desperate. _

"C'mon, Summers. I'll do a little charity." Spike said, grabbing Buffy's hand and squeezing. Buffy felt a warm tingle shoot up her spine and tore her hand away.

"Yeah c'mon, Buffy. It'll be fun!" Willow insisted. Spike made puppy eyes at her.

"Fine." She followed Spike, Willow, and Oz onto to the dance floor where they joined Anya and Xander. The band had taken a break and the speakers were now playing a thumping rap song, with Anya happily shimmying to the beat. Buffy turned to face Spike.

"So…"

"It's dancing, not rocket science." Spike grinned and grabbed Buffy by the hips, dancing. Buffy began to swing her hips, unable to deny that she had missed club dancing--she hadn't done much of it since she started dating Angel. He hated this kind of stuff. Spike's hands were holding her hips tightly, his piercing blue eyes boring holes into her own. She had to admit, he was a pretty good dancer.

"You missed me, didn't you?" Spike had dipped his head to meet her ear, whispering. Buffy looked around to see if the others were watching, but to her relief, they were too engaged in their other-halves.

"Stop." Spike breathed heavily onto her earlobe and she shivered, her body trembling underneath his grasp. Spike felt her whole body move against him and he let out an unconscious moan against her ear.

"Just…tell…me…the…truth."

"I didn't." Spike pressed one kiss to the bone behind her ears. Buffy panted.

"Stop it."

"Why?"

"Angel is here!" She tugged herself away from him to meet his gaze. His blue eyes flashed with realization.

"You object because _Angel is here_, but not because you don't like it?" He smiled wickedly. Buffy's face flushed bright red.

"Just. Dance." She wound her arms around his neck and began to move, swinging her hips back and forth, gyrating to the beat, even giving a sexy hair toss every now and then. One of Spike's hands felt to the hem of her skirt, where the rough skin of his palm tickled the soft flesh there. He pressed the pads of his fingertips just under the hem, relishing the smooth expanse of skin. Rather than pulling away, as he had fully expected, Buffy ground deeper against him and ran a spare hand through her choppy blonde locks. Spike felt his entire body tighten and then go languid--never had he met anyone quite like Buffy Summers. She had an impossibly sexy ability to go from sweet and innocent to sultry without a moment's notice--it drove him wild. Absolutely _wild_.

"Spike?" Buffy's voice broke the trance that had taken him over.

"What?" He pushed his cheek against hers, continuing to move his hips against hers.

"The song is over." Spike stopped, pulling away. She cracked a grin and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Sorry. Got distracted. Was thinking about this girl from back home."

"Oh shut up, Spike. You know that was the best dance of your life."

_Well, can't argue there. _A new song came over the speaker--and to Buffy's relief, it was much more upbeat than the first. Less 'let's dance like dirty animals' and more 'lets bop our heads in a non-threatening fashion'.

**She's blood, flesh and bone. **

**No tucks or silicone. **

**She's touch, smell, sight, taste, and sound**

"One more?" He held out his hand.

"Okay." Buffy took it, squeezing his cool fingers in the warmth of her palm.

**But somehow I don't believe**

**That anything should happen**

**I know where I belong,**

**And nothing's gonna happen…**

Spike spun the blonde around as a grin appeared on her face, lighting up her features. She moved her arms, her legs, her head…nothing was free of movement in her dancing form. Part of Spike thought she looked ridiculous. The other was in awe.

**Cause' she's so high, high above me**

**She's so lovely, she's so high…**

**Like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite**

**She's so high…**

**High above me.**

"You wanted to dance! Now dance!" Buffy giggled as she reversed the roles, spinning him around. Spike couldn't help but laugh.

"You're off your bird, you know that, right?"

"I have no idea what that means!" Buffy shouted over the music.

"You're nuts!"

"At least I'm not named _Spiiiike._" She drew out his name, a teasing smile on her face.

**First class and fancy free**

**She's high society **

**She's got the best of everything **

**What could a guy like me **

**Ever really offer?**

She released his hands and spun around, her hair twirling around her face, her arms above her head.

**She's perfect as she can be**

**Why should I even bother?**

She tumbled into him, his strong arms encompassing her tiny form. She laughed out loud. "Okay, this isn't so bad!"

"_I'm _not so bad?" Spike raised an eyebrow.

"_This. _It'd be fun with anyone." She said, the expression on her face a sign that she was only joking.

**She comes to speak to me **

**I freeze immediately**

**Cause' what she says sounds so unreal**

Spike gripped Buffy by the cheeks and looked down at the face now peering up at him. It was right then that he felt it--just for a second. A deep seed of warmth, sitting at the edge of his belly, begging to burst forth. His whole body tingled with anticipation. And then a deep, cutting voice broke the moment.

"I'm exhausted. Let's go." Angel was standing next to the pair, his sleepy eyes looking at Buffy with expectation.

"Right. Ok. Thanks for the pity dance, Spike." She smiled weakly at him and took Angel's hand. She and Angel walked over to say their goodbyes to the rest of the group as Spike walked backward off the dance floor. He swallowed, watching as the couple walked off, hand in hand.

**But somehow I can't believe**

**That anything should happen**

**I know where I belong**

**And nothing's gonna happen… **


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: All right guys...this chapter was originally Rated NC-17, but has been significantly edited down to M for this website. If you'd like to read the original version of this chapter, you can feel free to do it at my website www. bloodcalling . weebly . com (without spaces). The DIRECT link of this particular chapter is at bloodcalling . weebly . com/ untouched8 .html (again, without spaces). If M is more your style, then just keep reading along on this website. And most importantly, enjoy!

Buffy and Angel were walking along campus, clutching steaming hot chocolates in their hands.

"I'm so glad finals are over." Buffy looked back at the building where she'd just taken a hellish English exam. "Five weeks until I have to pretend to like school again!"

"And tomorrow night is formal." Angel reminded her, well aware that Buffy had selective amnesia when it came to frat events.

"Oh, yeah. I saw this really gorgeous red dress at that little boutique on main street. I was going to go pick it up later on tonight."

"Actually," Angel said, smiling from ear to ear. "I already bought you your dress."

--

Angel and Buffy were standing in his dorm room, with her jaw straight to the ground. It wasn't that the dress wasn't _beautiful_, but honestly? Who did he think he was, buying her own dress for her? It was hanging against the door of his closet in beautiful white satin. It was fairly modest, with a square neckline and thick straps, a line of delicate beads lining the empire waistline. It was nice. Yet, it looked like something she would've worn in high school. Fresh, virginal, angelic--exactly the way Angel liked her. She fingered the delicate material, frowning slightly.

"You don't like it?" Buffy considered telling him the truth for a second. That she was a big girl, not a paper doll for him to dress up as he pleased. But something stopped her.

"Of course I do. It's very nice." She smiled up at him, forcing her lips to spread across her teeth in some semblance of appreciation.

"Great. I will see you tomorrow night, then." Angel kissed her cheek and ushered her toward the door. He never let her stay at his dorm long.

--

Buffy burst into her door, thoroughly brassed off and ready for some girly rant time.

"You will _never _believe what Angel did!" She exclaimed as soon as she opened the door. Willow looked up, startled, from her spot at the desk, eyes wide.

"Whoa, Buffy. You okay?"

"Actually, I'm not. Angel had the nerve to go and buy _my _formal dress without even asking me. It's just like it is always is, Angel controlling the situation, being my superhero, even when I don't _need _one!" She kicked off her boots and ran her hands through her hair. "What?" Willow was looking at her with a strange expression.

"Well, it's just that…"

"Spit it out, Will."

"Well, Angel is _always _doing this. You're right. Ordering your meals without asking you first, planning all your dates, ignoring you at parties…it's nothing new, Buffy."

"And he won't even let us do the one thing that would actually take _two_." She frowned.

"Buffy, why are you even _with _him? You say you're all twitterpated, but most of the time, you're just complaining about how he doesn't treat you like a human being."

"I _love _him, Will."

"Do you? Or do you just feel like you should because he's your first serious boyfriend?"

"Stop being so damn wise. You're my friend, not my mother." Buffy rolled her eyes playfully at her best friend.

"I'm not sure anymore, honestly. But I can't just _give up_. We've been together too long. Plus, I really like his family."

"Whose family?" A blonde head peaked into the door, eyebrows raised.

"Spike? What are you doing here?" Buffy took a few steps back as he fully entered the room, plopping down onto Willow's bed. It was then that she noticed the black coat flung over her bed.

"Sorry, Buffy, I meant to tell you--" Willow started.

"Red's got some studying to do for her Chemistry exam. I offered to give her a hand."

"_You _are helping Willow with Chemistry?" Buffy looked at him incredulously.

"Yes." He said through gritted teeth.

"He's actually really helping me, Buffy." Willow gave her a wide-eyed look, pleading for her to be civil.

"Oh." She peeled Spike's coat from her bed, sat it on the floor, and took it's place.

"Hey, careful with the merchandise." Buffy gave him an over-exaggerated sigh and threw it over her legs. _Oooh, comfy. _"So what's this about liking someone's family, pet?"

"Buffy's just having Angel problems." Willow offered before Buffy could make up some other excuse. She shot her roommate a look of death.

"Is that so?"

"Nope. We're perfect."

"Now, now, don't lie. What's going on with you and Captain Cardboard? Still not showing you the ropes, love?" He offered suggestively.

"Hey! That's confidential." She pulled his coat up over her face and buried in within the soft leather. _Mmm, it smells good in here. _

"Oh shush. I'm sure Red is fully aware of your problem." Willow raised her hand, nodding vigorously. "And from your reaction, I'm guessing the answer is _no_." Spike felt his entire body grow warm. She was still untouched…except by him. All his. His Buffy.

"He bought me a dress." Buffy said, muffled by the coat still covering her face.

"Well that's nice."

"No, it's not. He didn't even ask me if I liked it. He just picked out some virginal white dress and expects me to wear it. It's like he doesn't trust me to pick it out myself."

"That's just Angel's way, pet. He doesn't date girls for conversation or companionship. He dates girls to take care of, like a dog."

"Are you calling me a dog?"

"Um," Willow stood up from her spot at the desk. "My final starts in thirty minutes, so I'm going to walk over." She gathered up her books. "Thank you for all your help, Spike!"

"Anytime, Red. You're going to ace that final." He gave her a cheesy thumbs up and she smiled, dashing out the door.

"_What _are you doing, Spike?"

"I _was_ doing a good deed an' helping' your friend out, love."

"I mean…being chummy with my friends? Dancing with me all seductively at the Bronze."

"I believe _you _were responsible for any seductive dancing, pet." Buffy swallowed.

"Maybe that's true."

"Why are you _with _Angel, Buffy?"

"That's not the first time I've been asked that today."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"He's nice. He spoils me. He is polite."

"Sounds…exciting." Spike added sarcastically. "He isn't the Prince Charming that you think he is, trust me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't want to hear it, so you won't listen." Spike stood up from Willow's bed and then sat down on the edge of Buffy's. He put a hand on her jean-clad knee.

"I'll listen." She could feel a warmth spreading from where his hand touched her…the same kind that _always _seemed to appear when he was near.

"You are intelligent…independent…irritating as all hell, pet."

"And this is supposed to be a compliment?"

"Hold it--the point is…Angel can't _handle _you. You're not the brain-dead, pliable bint he normally brings home. You're more. Angel knows that. You know that. So stop letting him suffocate you. It's exhausting to watch." Buffy sat forward and rolled up onto her knees.

"You sure think highly of me for someone who claims to hate me."

"I don't hate you." He admitted, softly. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, lingering there for a moment.

"What was that for?"

"A thank you, I guess."

"I think I deserve a little more thanks than that, pet." Spike wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

"Um, no."

"You sure?" He pressed hand on her cheek, smoothing over the skin with his thumb. "'m gonna kiss you, pet." He whispered.

"Okay." He tugged her face downwards, pressing his lips against hers, feather-light. He held her there for a moment before pushing her back. They looked at each other in confusion for a minute. And then in one swift movement, Buffy had swung one leg over his lap so that she was straddling him and with Spike still sitting up, had crushed his face towards hers with a bruising kiss. Spike threaded his fingers through her golden hair, holding her fast to him as they kissed with increasing intensity. On hand, traveling from her hair, to her neck, down her shoulder, along her back--working delicious shivers through her entire form. Buffy tossed her head back and guided his hand toward her exposed neck where he clamped down, sucking the skin--soft, tender, salty. Spike was drowning, being swallowed alive by her taste and her sounds…the gentle little breaths being exhaled from those rosy lips and she moved to wrap her legs around his waist--tighter, tighter.

"I knew you wanted this." He whispered against her neck, breath fanning across the moist skin. She shuddered.

"Uhuh."

"Tell me you wanted it, Buffy." He licked a clean line from her collarbone to the place just below her ear. She shook her head, shying away. "Tell me."

"I wanted you." She admitted, voice heavy with embarrassment, but shrouded by lust. Fueled by her admittance, he grabbed her by the hips, and pressed her down against the bed, moving on top of her. He slid down, pressing the hem of her tee-shirt up and kissed her belly button, her hip bones…she arched her back up, letting out the tiniest of mewls.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Suddenly her hands were at the hem of her shirt, tugging it up, over her bra, over her head, tossing it to the ground below. "Well, then." Spike crawled up the length of her body, kissing the rise of her chest. He pulled up and kissed her once more, unbuttoning her jeans with one skilled hand. She wiggled out of them and he laughed as she blushed furiously.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, pet." She chewed nervously on her lip. "Enough of that." He traced the pouty lip with his pointer finger. Then she encompassed it with both lips, suckling momentarily on the tip of his finger. She laughed.

"Sorry." Her eyelashes fluttered down.

"Do it again." She looked at him in shock for a second. She hadn't _intended _to be seductive. His finger had just _been _there is all.

"Okay." She opened her mouth and pulled the finger inside, sucking all the way from the base to the fingertip. His eyes rolled back. "Do you want me to do that…for real?" His eyes snapped back in focus. Was she really _offering…?_ "Never mind. I mean…I know it probably wouldn't good." She started to tug her body out from underneath him, her face red with embarrassment.

"No, love, it's not that. I just don't want you to feel like--"

"I don't _feel _like anything, Spike. Big girl, remember?"

_Well, you don't have to beg me. _He thought. He peeled himself from on top of her, stood up, and unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down onto the floor. Buffy placed her fingers at the hem of his boxer briefs and slid them down.

. --

"Can I kiss you?"

"Of course, pet." She smiled up at her and she crushed down, kissing him hungrily.

"Was that okay?" She pulled away and nestled into the crook of his arm.

"_Okay? _That was bloody fantastic, love."

"Really?" Buffy gleamed up at him.

"Really." Spike kissed her hair, breathing in her scent and smiling. The door swung open.

"Oh, My God! I'm sooo sorry!" Willow was standing in the doorway, red-faced, with an armful of book and a tray full of Starbucks.

"Oh God!" Buffy jumped up.

"I'll go!" Willow squeaked, shielding her eyes.

"No, it's okay, we will." Buffy and Spike stood and dressed themselves hurriedly. "We're good." Willow turned back around.

"This is so great!" She clapped her hands. "Now you guys, go…have fun. You just, go!" She smiled and clapped Buffy on the shoulder. The embarrassed pair slipped out the door, giggling.

"That was humiliating." Buffy admitted smoothing her post-head hair.

"She seemed happy. Strange girl, that Red." Spike shrugged, grabbing Buffy by the hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah, so is this what this is--cue post-orgasmic freak-out? I've seen the show already, don't need the rerun."

"No…that's not it. It's just--" Spike cut her off.

"How about we just don't talk? Let's just walk home, we'll talk tomorrow." Buffy looked up at him, her face softening. She smiled and nodded.

"That sounds nice." Spike put his arm around her shoulders, which were not shielded by the cool winter breeze, and they strolled across campus, silently.

As the pair reached the front of the hotel, Spike looked down at the girl at his side.

"Bye, love." _Is she going to break up with Angel? Oh right, talking tomorrow. What a bloody stupid idea. _

"Bye." _This is complicated. Talking tomorrow? Brilliant plan, Spike. _She leaned up and kissed him gently, running her fingers over his mussed curled. He smiled, patted her jokingly on the butt, and disappeared through the double doors.

Neither of them noticed the brunette figure standing on the balcony on the penthouse, watching with interest.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

A/N: Thanks so much for your patience. My computer crashed and I lost EVERYTHING. And, I haven't had a computer for 2 weeks while I waited for a new hard drive to come in.

Heads turned as the handsome young man swaggered into the banquet hall, clad in a crisp Ralph Lauren suit, a baby blue Ramones tee shirt peeking out from under the coat. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd, his hand stuffed in his pockets.

"Hey." A vixenish brunette dressed in a short black dress approached him, twirling manicured nails through her curls. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Not now, princess." He shoved her off, continuing his descent into the crowd.

"I don't think you want to do that." The brunette raised one arched eyebrow at him and smiled devilishly.

Angel peered into his full-length mirror, adjusting his silvery-black bowtie. He glanced at the wallet photograph stuck in the frame of his mirror—a smiling portrait of his beautiful girlfriend, smile gleaming up at the photographer. He brushed a thumb over it, the weight of the velvet box in his left pocket becoming heavier with each moment.

"Angel?" The door to his hotel room opened and his mother peered in, smiling.

"Yes?"

"Buffy is here." Jenny grinned, swinging the door open. Next to him stood his perfect, dainty, girlfriend---in shocking black. Not the innocent, gauzy, delicate dress he'd purchased for $650, but a silky confection of seed pearls and curves.

"Where'd you get that dress?"

"I'm sorry, Angel. I spilled juice on the dress when I was getting ready. I had to rush out and grab this an hour ago." Buffy felt the lie tumble from her lips before she knew it wasn't coming. She hadn't even attempted to concoct it. She was starting to notice that lying was becoming easier and easier. She smiled nervously at him, his broad shoulders handsomely clad in a fine designer suit.

"Oh, Buffy. It's okay." He smiled warily at her. She could tell he didn't fully believe her. "Ready?" He stuck out his arm and she placed her small hand in the crook of it.

"Ready."

"And just who do you think you are?" Spike looked the curvaceous woman up and down.

"Cordelia Chase. President of Delta Zeta." She stuck out her hand, her long red nails curling over his palm.

"Spose' that's supposed to mean something to me?" He brushed past her and she caught his arm.

"_Don't _walk away from me, Spike." Spike narrowed his ice blue eyes down at her, bewildered.

"How do you know my name?"

"Spike Giles. Step-brother of Angel Douglas. It's a wonder you're related---even by law."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, just the faint idea that your appearance screams _gutter rat_."

"Well, if you're done abusin' me, I've got to go find a lady." Spike turned on his heel.

"Oh, you mean Buffy?" He stopped dead in his tracks, breath catching his chest. "That's right. I mentioned you'd want to listen to me, didn't I?"

"What do you know?" Spike gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists at his sides. He'd never wanted to punch a female so badly.

"Well, I do know that I saw you kissing her last night. I also know that her _boyfriend _isn't going to be too happy about that."

Buffy walked hand in hand with Angel down the main hallway of the hotel. She was going to tell him the truth, _tonight. _She'd lay awake in bed all night considering her decision. Was she leaving him _for _Spike? Certainly not. What they'd done---it was reprehensible. But it had only proven to her the flawed nature of her relationship. She didn't love Angel—not if she could cheat on him with his _step-brother. _She looked at the handsome man at her side, frowning.

"Angel, I need to tell you something." Buffy stopped, pressing a hand against the wall and leaning into it.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Angel turned to face her, his brown furrowing in concern.

"No." She looked up at him with watery green eyes.

"It's about Spike isn't it?" Shock filled Buffy's veins---that was one response she was _not _expecting.

"Wh-What?"

"I know, Buffy. Well, I kind of do. Cordelia saw you two at the hotel last night."

"Why was Cordelia at the hotel?" Buffy felt anger flood her entire form---so she was _right. _He'd been fucking that bimbo, all the while refusing to touch her. How dare her ambush her about Spike?

"I.." Angel chewed on his lower lip.

"I knew you had been up to something over these last few weeks. And you have the audacity to corner _me_."

"I'm failing Stats, Buffy." Her face softened.

"What?"

"I'm failing Stats. I blew off my midterm project…Coach was threatening to bench me. Professor Wilcox told me I could make up my grade if I tutored Cordelia for the rest of the semester."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Buffy felt her heart fall---all this time, she'd been telling herself that her lies were somehow _okay _because she'd been sure Angel had been cheating. She should've known better.

"I was embarrassed about how irresponsible I was." He admitted, honestly.

"I'm-I'm sorry." Buffy hung her head. Angel caught her chin and tipped it up towards him.

"Its okay, Buffy. I don't know how far it's gone and I don't need to know. I'm willing to forget it. I love you." Buffy blinked at him disbelievingly. He was willing to _forget? _Just let her deception go?

"But, Spike.." She wasn't sure what she was about to say. That she liked him? She never got a chance as Angel cut her off before she could finish.

"I know, Buffy. He's charming. It's not like you're the first girlfriend of mine he's tried to take." Buffy's eyes flew open. A cold fist closed around her heart. So she was game to Spike? Just…another way to hurt Angel? Her body filled with resolve.

"You're right, Angel. I hope you can forgive me." She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Now, let's go have a good night."

"What are you goin' to do, tell him? Go ahead, I don't care." Spike grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and tossed it down his throat.

"Oh, I don't need to. He already knows." Cordelia smiled, satisfied. Spike went silent, swallowing. "Oh, don't worry. He won't cut poor Buffy lose. He fed me some _sob _story about how you've done this before. You're a keeper, Spike."

"What do you want, you stupid bint?" Spike leaned in to her face.

"I just think we can be of service to one another."

"Look 'm not gonna bury my sorrows in your…"

"Um, Ew," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "For some crazy reason, you want Buffy, right?" Spike nodded.

"Well _I _want Angel. He was _supposed _to be mine. Until _Buffy _showed up and he lost all sense. It's too bad he's revoltingly faithful."

"What do you want me to do?"

Buffy and Angel entered the banquet hall through the grand double doors adorned with the glittering sign that said "Phi Beta/Delta Zeta Formal". Dingoes Ate My Baby were prepping on the stage while the DJ played top 40 tunes.

"Buffy!" Willow ran up to her friend, smiling. Her red hair was pulled back into an elegant French twist.

"Hey Will. I love the dress." She hugged the redhead, who was dressed in dark green tulle.

"Thanks! I'm so glad you are here. Oz is getting ready to play, and Xander and Anya are being gross." Willow darted her eyes to a back corner of the room where the couple was making out. Buffy rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Typical." Suddenly Buffy's eyes traveled over Willow's shoulder across the room, where the back of a very-blonde head was positioned. She knew who it was even before her spun around, as if he had felt her stare. Spike's hair was slicked back, smoother than usual. He was wearing a black Ralph Lauren suit, the single breasted buttons open to reveal a rumpled Ramones tee, the same color as his eyes. His eyes landed on her and she watched a painful look flash over his handsome features. Suddenly she became even more aware of Angel's hand holding hers and she dropped it.

"Buffy?" Willow waved her hand in front of her dazed friend.

"Yeah? Sorry." Buffy's eyes flitted away from Spike.

"Want to dance?" Angel smiled down at her and she nodded. He led her out to the dance floor, where the DJ was playing a slow, romantic number. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she pressed her palms and cheek against his chest, listening to the slow, steady thump of his heartbeat. She couldn't bear to look up at him, to admit that she didn't feel _better._ He forgave her…warned her that she just a silly conquest to Spike…and still she felt the urge to run off and away.

Spike stood in the back hallway, a glass of champagne clutched in his fist. He couldn't believe how _stupid _he'd been. What had he expected, really? For Buffy to waltz in, run toward him in slow motion and they'd live happily ever after? Of course not. But, somehow, he certainly hadn't expected her to walk in on the arm of his step-brother, looking gorgeous and happy.

Yet, she had. Blonde hair hanging softly around her face, lithe body clad in a silky, dark dress that clung to all the right places. She'd looked like a goddess---so much so that it was hard to feel angry, even in this moment.

And then she came around the corner, eyes wet with unhushed tears.

"Buffy?" His voice came out softer than he'd intended. She looked up from the floor and it was then that he noticed a ring box clutched in her hand.

"What?" Her shoulders slumped, the delicately beaded straps of her dress falling from her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" His face hardened. "I mean---what's all the fuss about?"

"Like you care." She readjusted her fallen strap. Spike focused on the line of black seed pearls that travelled down the center of her dress.

"Should I?" He gulped down the last of his champagne.

"I suppose not." Buffy stepped past him and continued in her quest to the ladies' room. He stopped her with one ice-cold hand to the shoulder.

"What's in your hand?" His thumb brushed against her collar bone.

"A ring." She dipped her head down, so that her breath was hot against his fingertips. He shuddered. He aligned his body against her back, his hand travelling down her shoulder, to her elbow, her wrist. He smoothed his palm against the palm of her belly.

"Why's that?"

"Angel knows."

"So I've been told."

"He asked me to marry him anyway." He voice broke on the last word and Spike felt her entire body tense. Part of him wanted to release his grip from her rigid form, but he couldn't pull away.

"Are you going to say yes?"

"I don't know." With one swift movement, he spun her around, clutching her by both shoulders.

"How can you _not know_?"

"Maybe I should take what I've got and run."

"That's bollocks and you know it." Spike leaned forward, brushing an almost-imperceptible kiss against her lips. She sucked in a breath and focused her eyes up on him.

"Is this just some way to get one up on Angel?" Spike shook his head and kissed her cheeks, her chin, and her forehead. Buffy's eyes fluttered closed.

"Stop fighting this, Summers. Just. Let. It. Happen." He grabbed her wrist, tugging her toward him. She resisted for a moment, before letting the words slip from her mouth.

"Okay."

"Angel? What's wrong?" Cordelia walked up to the brooding man. Only minutes before, she'd seen Angel and Buffy dancing slowly to the music, arms around one another, and now he was alone on the dance floor, eyes narrowed.

"I did it." His eyes closed and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Did what?"

"Like I told you last night. I proposed." Cordelia's eyebrows raised in shock.

"Then why so gloomy?" She pressed a sympathetic hand to his bicep.

"I asked her. Showed her the ring. And she just ran off."

"Oh, Angel." She hugged him tightly, pressing her bust against him. "I told you she'd do that. I _saw _her kissing your step-brother, didn't I?"

"Spike has a way of making women act out of character, Cordy. I love her."

"Well, maybe she's just emotional. Why don't we dance while we wait for her to get back?" Cordelia wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sway.

"I don't know---shouldn't I look for her?"

"If she wanted to be found, she wouldn't have run away. She needs space. _Trust _me, I'm a woman. I know how we work."

Buffy and Spike stood inside the suite, at the entrance to his bedroom. Luckily, Giles and Jenny were out for the night and the penthouse was left uninhabited.

"I love this dress." Spike slid his hands over the smooth material, pausing to revel the curves hidden just beneath. He slid off his jacket, dropped it to the floor, and continued his assault on her mouth, kissing her breathless. He slid the straps from her toned shoulders and kissed the soft, bare skin there. Buffy slid her hands under the hem of his tee, her fingers travelling over the well-defined muscles of his stomach. Spike used on hand to turn the door knob and the pair tumbled inside, slamming the door behind them. Spike moved backwards, until he was seated on the king bed and Buffy was straddling him, her floor length skirt pushed up around her thigh. Spike tore his shirt off and Buffy leaned down to kiss his skin lightly, seductively, trailing her warm tongue over his skin. He leaned his head back and she suckled on the skin of his neck, causing his pants to become uncomfortably tight. "Fuck, Love. You drive me crazy."

"Sorry." Buffy's face flushed red and she pulled up. He smiled and shook his head.

"Not a bad thing." He reached for the hem of her dress and tugged it up over her head, tossing it on the floor. And then his whole body tensed up in excitement. _Lingerie? _Buffy looked down at her red and black clad figure, dressed in the underwear she'd picked out for the big night. She'd completely forgotten she was wearing it, even though the boning was digging into her skin all night.

"Oh, um." She mumbled, crossing her arms in front of the balconette.

"Stand up." Spike gently pushed her from his lap. She stepped back, straightened. "Turn around." Buffy spun around slowly, a smile forming on her lips. Spike stood to join her, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. "You asked for it." He breathed headily onto her ear. His hands travelled to the back of the corset and began undoing the hook and eye closures, one by one. It was torture. The top fell away, leaving her in only black panties, thigh-high stockings, and sky-high black heels. He pushed her up against the wall, letting his hands travel across her half-naked form, over her heaving chest, her hardened nipples, and her hipbones. She stepped out of the heels, suddenly becoming much shorter than him and he chuckled. "That's better." He picked her up and carried her to the bed, trying to control himself as he set her down more gently than he would have liked.

"If you don't tell me stop _now_, I won't be able to." He warned, lying on top of her and nibbling at her ear.

"Stop from _what_?" Buffy looked up at him with feigned innocence.

"I want you." Spike ground his erection against her center and she arched up involuntarily.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" He licked a clean line up her neck and she shivered slightly.

"Don't…._stop._" Spike took this as all the permission he needs, sliding his body down to peel her thigh-highs off.

It was wrong. He knew it. He was going to make love to her, for her first time, on the very night that his step-brother had _proposed. _But he couldn't stop. Suddenly, the moment was very reminiscent of their tryst back at Thanksgiving. "Spike…" the name hissed from her lips. He pulled his hand away. "Stop teasing." She begged, pushing his hands back to her lower half. He hooked his fingers in the waistband over her underwear and slid them over her knees and ankles, tossing them off of the bed. "This is ridiculously unfair." She sat up and slid upwards until she was propped against the leather-clad headboard.

"Huh?" Spike was too mesmerized by her naked form to pay much attention. She pointed at his pants. He laughed. "So concerned with with _fairness_, pet." He unbuttoned the trousers, removed them, along with his boxers, so they were both completely naked.

Spike couldn't take it anymore; he slid up her body and kissed her deliciously parted lips, running a hand over her hair

"Mmmm…"

"Sorry." He pulled away. She gripped his hips and pulled him dangerously close. "Whoa…Summers. Hold on."

"But…I want you." She stuck out her lip in frustration. Suddenly Spike's eyes widened.

"I…I don't have a condom." His shoulders slumped and he cursed himself. He was about to bed Buffy Summers---the girl who'd become an obsession over the last six weeks of his life and now he'd gone and screwed it all up.

"I'm on the Pill."

"But…_what_?"

"Wishful thinking." She smiled devilishly and Spike couldn't help but kiss her senseless.

"Are you sure?" She nodded. "Tell me." He insisted.

"Make love to me."


	10. Chapter 10

January 20th

Buffy pulled her black pea coat tighter around her thin-frame and wrapped her chilly fingers around her steamy coffee cup. Willow strode alongside her, red hair tucked into a white knit beanie.

"I love the first day of classes." Willow sighed, breathing in the crisp California air.

"Yeah. Me too." Buffy stared across campus blankly.

"No. You don't."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Buffy shrugged and looked down at her feet.

"Hell-_o_. Earth to Buffy?" Willow waved a mitten-clad hand in front of the blonde's face. Buffy's eyes widened.

"God. I'm sorry Will. I'm totally out of it. I'm exhausted." Buffy feigned a dramatic yawn, stretching an open palm in front of her mouth.

"You went to bed at 9, Buffy." Willow raised her eyebrows, pointing out Buffy's, well, _excessive_, sleep schedule over the past month. She'd been dozing off early, sleeping till noon, and spending most of the day curled up in bed. Willow had caught her reading the other day and threatened to commit her.

"New semester. I'll be up and adam in no time. Speaking of—here's my class." Buffy nodded her head toward the brick building to their left.

"Alrighty. Have fun!" Willow gave her a cheesy thumbs up. Buffy gave her a thin lipped smile and continued off, staring at the crumpled schedule freshly removed from her pocket. ART1000, the drawing class for those who have never drawn. She'd never been particularly inclined in the arts (she was given a check minus in grade school for her inability to color inside the lines) but something had inspired her to sign up for the class at last minute.

As she ducked into the stone archway, a strong hand clapped her on the shoulder. She spun around, nearly decking the figure with her free hand. Her coffee cup crashed to the ground, splashing steaming hot chocolate onto Riley's snow-white sneakers.

"Whoa. Buffy! It's just me." Riley Finn laughed, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"I'm _so _sorry." Buffy tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and swallowed. She watched the liquid drip off the tips of his shoes like mud.

"Don't worry about it." Riley scooped the cup from the ground and tossed it into the trashcan behind Buffy. "It's been a while since I've seen you."

"Yeah, it has." She hadn't spoke to Riley, or any of the football guys for that matter, since Angel had found her and Spike, post-coital only hours after losing her virginity. How skanky did _that _sound?

"I heard about you and Angel." Riley frowned. "I'm sorry." Buffy looked up into his big brown eyes. With anyone else, she would have laughed and the false sympathy---but Riley Finn was _anything _but false. A little boring, perhaps, but as genuine as a puppy. A puppy raised in Iowa by Catholic parents.

"It's okay." She shrugged. "Has—"she let her voice trail off, unable to phrase the question sitting at the base of her throat. She swallowed and tried again. "Has he..I mean, is he.."

"He's not back yet, Buffy." She nodded slowly and closed her eyes. Angel and the rest of his family had left Sunnydale at top-speed after their meltdown of a breakup in the lobby of the Sunnydale Grand. It had been almost a month since she'd seen or heard from him---or Spike.

_Spike. _

The small knot at the center of her abdomen tightened at the thought of the bleached-blonde. She couldn't believe he'd ignored her phone calls for four weeks---well, she hadn't exactly been _honorable _when Angel found her naked form scrambling out of his bed---but what did Spike expect her to do? Laugh about it?

"Oh. Um---what class are you heading to?"

"Drawing." Riley tugged a sketchbook out from under his arm.

"_You're _taking drawing?"

"Hey, now….I know I _look_ like a total meathead. But broad shoulders does not an idiot make."

"No! I mean---I'm taking it, too. I'm just glad I'll have a friend in the lion's den."

"I sense some anxiety."

"That's very astute." Buffy rolled her eyes and nodded her head in the direction of the classroom. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Together, Riley and Buffy wandered into the classroom, which was filled with an assortment of students---from those looking as clueless as they did or others who looked a lot more knowledgeable as they arranged themselves around easels and drawing tables. Buffy positioned herself at an easel at the back of the room; Riley took the one to her left.

"I didn't know I was supposed to bring a sketchbook." Buffy looked around at the students unloading spiral bound books onto their easels.

"It's okay. You can borrow a few sheets from mine today." Riley tore out a handful of pages and placed them in front of her.

"Thanks."

"Class!" The booming voice of a portly professor echoed through the room. He stood at the front of the room, barely hitting five feet tall, and dressed in a pea-green suit. Buffy noticed he was almost as wide as he was tall. "I'm Professor Wilds…but you can call me John, Johnny, J-Man, or 'Hey you!'" A few of the braver students chuckled. "Now, I assume you've all brought sketchbooks and pencils as detailed in the syllabus I emailed last week."

Buffy shot a look at Riley, eyebrows arching in surprise. She shrugged her shoulders, laughing slightly. He pulled a blue pencil case from his backpack and retrieved three drawing pencils.

"You're so _prepared." _Buffy whispered as she accepted the pencils from Riley's outstretched hand.

"Well, thanks." Riley smiled widely, taking Buffy's observation as a glowing compliment.

"This class isn't about being a _talented _artist." Professor Wilds announced, climbing atop a stool so that he towered over the class. "It's about being an _inspired _one. Some of you will find you hate drawing. Hate sketching. At least four of you will drop before next week, I promise. But, there will always be a handful who come back for more." He winked, one hand playing idly with his wiry beard.

"You know, my mom owns a galley." Buffy whispered.

"Really? So you'll teach me a few things, then?"

"Oh, _no. _I am ashamed to admit I barely even _look _at art. Hence why I thought this class might be a good idea. A little personal growth, you know?"

"What we're going to do today is talk about inspiration. While we discuss, feel free to sketch a little. Nothing precise---just do it without thinking. I won't be grading, don't worry." He laughed at a few students who were looking frightened at the prospect.

"Great. _Inspiration._" Buffy grabbed a pencil and drew a line across the top of her page.

"Deep." Riley deadpanned.

"Think about something that's really affected you. Happy…sad…angry…anything. Just pick one moment." Professor Wilds sat down on the stool and crossed his legs. "Now…think."

_"Mmmm." Buffy peeled her drool-sticky cheek from Spike's bare chest. Her entire body felt warm----whether it was emotional warmth or due to the thick comforter over her naked form was unclear. _

_"Mmmm, is right." Spike kissed her forehead and smoothed her sex-hair. Buffy rolled onto her back and stretched her arms over her head. _

_"Wow." _

_"I rocked your world, didn't I?" Spike arched one eyebrow at her. _

_"Nah. It was horrible." Buffy stuck her tongue out at him and giggled. _

_"I may have post-traumatic stress disorder." Spike rolled onto of her and kissed the hollow of her throat. _

_"I should…..go." Buffy said, breathy. _

_"No, you should…stay." Spike kissed her hairline, her nose, her shoulders…_

_"Well….okay." Buffy kissed him on the mouth, feeling his strong arms encircle her figure. _

_"I win." Spike bore down on her, hands searching her form. "I _always _win." _

_The bedroom door swung open. Spike rolled off of Buffy in a flash and she sat up, holding the comforter over her chest. Angel stood in the doorway, tie loosened eyes heavy. _

_"Buffy?" Angel braced himself on the doorframe. His eyes traveled over the rumbled comforter, to the fabric of her dress piled in the corner---to the discarded ring box on the floor. _

_"Angel." Buffy shot up and out of the bed, carrying the comforter along with her. Spike stayed on the bed, not moving to cover up his nude body. _

_"Well, looks like you got what you wanted, Spike." Angel narrowed his eyes as his step-brother, who was still silent. _

_"Looks like she got what _she _wanted." Spike nodded toward Buffy who was cowering next to Angel. _

_"Is that what it is? She's in love_ _with you, is that it?" Angel laughed. Buffy said nothing. Angel pushed past her and over to the closet where he pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a big-tee shirt. "Put on some clothes." He tossed the clothes at Buffy's feet, walked out of the room, and slammed the door. _

_"Love? Are you okay?" Spike stood and walked toward her as she pulled the sweatpants over her hips. _

_"I'm fine." She tugged the tee-shirt over her head. "I have to go." _

_"Go? There's nothing to hide anymore." _

_"So, what? I'm just supposed to stay here---order room service? Eat croissants naked in bed?" _

_"I…" For once in his life, Spike was lost for words. _

_"Look, this was stupid. We both know that. I just…have to go." Buffy swung open the door and ran out of the penthouse. _

_When she reached the lobby, she heard footsteps behind her. Spike---he'd come for her. But when she spun around, it was Angel, still in his tuxedo, the ring box clutched firmly in his hand. _

_"I trusted you." His face was filled with hurt. _

_"I know." _

_"I gave you another chance. I _proposed _Buffy." The stragglers leaving the formal were stopping, enthralled at the meltdown happening right in their very mist. _

_"I know." _

_"You can't say anything but that?" _

_"I'm so sorry, Angel." A few tears slid down her cheeks. She looked up at him. In true Angel fashion, softness still lay behind his eyes. _

_"Yeah. Me too." Angel tossed the box at her feet. "Bye, Buffy." He spun around and stomped back into the elevator lobby. _

"Buffy?" Riley nudged her shoulder.

"Huh?"

"You…comatose?"

"No. I just got lost in thought." Buffy willed away the tears that were quickly collecting behind her eyes, threatening to burst forth. She'd refused to cry since that night and certainly wasn't going to do it in her first class of the new semester. It was a fresh start.

"You might want to check out the notes on the board…he's been writing for almost twenty minutes."

"Oh. Thanks." Buffy leaned, too short to see over her easel. Several rows up, a severely blonde hair blocked the board. She swallowed, the familiar sight causing sorrow to well up in her abdomen. "I can't see."

"I'll let you see my notes after class. We'll grab lunch in the quad." Riley suggested. She nodded, somewhat desperate for the company.

"That sounds nice."

"It was a nice introduction today," Professor Wilds climbed back onto his stool. "Remember to bring a check for $40 on Wednesday to cover student fees. Have a nice afternoon!"

Buffy and Riley gathered their things and began to follow the class out of the room.

"I thought it was really interesting when…" Riley's voice trailed off as Buffy's eyes focused on the familiar blonde head walking only a few strides ahead of them. "Never mind." Buffy tore her eyes from the man.

"Crap. I'm sorry, Riley. I'm awful company, aren't I?"

"I could do worse." He shrugged as the pair started off in the direction of the food court. "So…this Friday, I was thinking of checking out that new sushi place in town. You should join me."

"Oh, I don't know, Riley. That'd be---" As Buffy was about to finish, the blonde man ahead dropped something and ducked to the ground to retrieve it. As his sudden stop, Buffy caught his side with her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm…" He spun around and she fell silent. "_Spike_?" Spike stood in front of her, looking slightly less shocked than she.

"Umm…" Riley eyed her curiously.

"I'll meet you in the food court, Riley." He took the hint and left the pair alone.

"_What _are you doing here, Spike?"

"Goin' to school. Da is so proud."

"And taking _art_?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Spike---if this is some little ploy to come sweep me off my feet, it's not going to work. And it's pretty pathetic, enrolling in _college_ to get a girl." She placed her hands on her hips. Spike laughed.

"Oh…that's rich."

"So you're trying to tell me that you've decided to enroll _here _of all places simply to get an education?" Spike was about to answer when a petite hand slid over his shoulder. Harmony Kendall poked her head around his torso.

"Hey Blondie Bear!" She leaned up and kissed him one chiseled cheekbone, ignoring Buffy's presence completely.

"Hey Harm." Spike wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I had a _great _time last night. Call me?"

"You know it." Spike winked and she giggled, squeezed his bicep, and continued on her way.

"So you see, Summers, as conceited as you might be, I am _not _here for you. You're the last of my worries, actually." He patted the top of her head patronizingly and took off in the opposite direction. Buffy sucked back tears. How _dare _he? She wrapped her arms around herself and frowned. After _ignoring _her all break….

_Buffy trekked across campus, freshly showered and out of the old clothes Angel had thrown at her. After a good night's sleep and a morning of pondering her actions, she'd come to the realization that she'd been horrible to both Angel _and _Spike. A deep seed in her belly was begging her to apologize. Buffy reached the hotel and entered the lobby, quickly taking the elevator to the penthouse floor. She ran up to their door and began knocking. _

_No answer. _

_She knocked again. "Come on. Please answer! Giles? Spike? Angel?" _

_"Miss?" A bellboy passed her in the hallway and stopped. "Can I help you with something?" _

_"Where are Gileses? Do you know when they'll be back?" _

_"They checked out about an hour ago. The maid already turned down the suite." _

_"They're gone? For good?" _

_"As far as I know." _

_"Oh. Thanks." The bellboy continued on his way as she palmed the cell phone in her coat pocket. She pulled it out, scrolled to __**Spike **__and hit 'call.' _

_"This is Spike. Leave a message. BEEEEEEEEP." Buffy took a deep breath. _

_"Spike…it's Buffy. I made a huge mistake. I just needed to tell you how sorry I am. I felt bad about hurting Angel, but I shouldn't have been so rude to you. You were nothing but kind to me all night and I was a complete bitch about it. Please call me back. I'm sorry." _

_Click. _

Buffy remembered that message word for word. It was amazing, considering she'd left about ten messages over the next two weeks, all of them with the same message, in varying tones of distress and sorrow. But he'd never called back. And eventually she'd given up.

She wiped a stray tear from under her eye and entered the food court. Riley was sitting at a table for two in the far corner, head hung low.

"Hi!" She plopped down in the seat across from him.

"I didn't think you were coming. I got you a replacement hot chocolate." He gestured at the now-cold drink in front of her.

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Riley?"

"Yeah?"

"On second thought, sushi sounds great."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"You're going on a date with _Riley_?" Willow dropped her book bag to the floor and paced across the room to where her blonde roommate was examining herself in the mirror.

"Yup." Buffy released her curling iron from her hair and watched it fall to her shoulder in a loose ringlet.

"But…_why?_"

"He asked. And he's been really nice to me." Buffy played with her curled hair, holding it on top of her head and pursing her glossed lips.

"This is about Spike, isn't it?" Willow sat down on her bed. Buffy spun around and straightened her white robe. She had yet to tell Willow about her encounter with the bleached blonde the day before.

"No."

"Lying isn't really your strong suit."

"He's back, Will."

"Back? Back as in like _get-back-in-my-heart_-_back_ or like _Noah-in-the-Notebook-back?_"

"More like _I'm screwing Harmony Kendall back_. Got it?" Willow screwed up her face.

"But Spike _hates _girls like that."

"You only knew him for a month."

"And in that month, he made his distaste for Slutty McSlut girls very clear." Buffy grabbed her toothbrush.

"Look—Spike is in California, yes, but he's not _here_. And since distance isn't relevant in my disgust _anyway_, let's just not talk about it! I'm going to go brush my teeth," She rambled as she started out the door to the door, "I'm going to need a sparkly white smile if…." Suddenly Buffy's chipper tone fell silent.

"Buffy?" Willow paced across the room and peered out the door. Buffy was standing in the center of the hallway, only a few footfalls from the door, staring at a couple kissing hungrily at the end of the hall. Spike. Harmony. Spike _and _Harmony. "Buffy?" Willow grabbed her friend by the wrist and started to tug her back into the room. Buffy wrenched her arm from Willow's grasp.

"No. I have to go to the bathroom. I'm not letting _that _stop me." With a flip of the hair Buffy sauntered down the hallway.

"Excuse me….I need to get into the bathroom." Buffy tapped Spike on the shoulder and smiled brightly at him.

"Go downstairs. Or upstairs. There's plenty of bathrooms." Harmony narrowed her eyes.

"Duly noted. But I want to use _this _bathroom." She propped both hands on her hips, thankful she'd curled her hair _before _leaving the room. She leaned just close enough that one ringlet touched Spike's forearm, still curled around Harmony's neck. His arm shot back toward the wall.

"Whatever. We'll go." He refused to make eye contact with her as he removed himself from the bathroom door.

"But Spikey! She can't just _make _us leave!" Harmony whined as Spike dragged her down the hallway by the arm.

"Thanks!" Buffy called sarcastically as she entered the bathroom.

As Buffy entered the restaurant on Main Street, she noted the impressive choice of locale on Riley's part. The room was cozy and warmly lit---decorated with cherry tables and a collection of randomly places couches and armchairs. She spotted Riley in the back corner, lounging in a pink velvet couch with brass embellishments and a winged back. The fabric was embroidered with little Koi fish along the edges. How very _Japanese-Victorian_.

"Hi." She smiled as she ducked under an extremely low-hung chandelier.

"Hey!" Riley stood as Buffy maneuvered her way around the octagonal shaped table.

"This is neat." Buffy noted as she sat down, specifically scooting as far to the left as possible. Riley, not a small man in the slightest, had dominated most of the right half of the couch with his broad shoulders and long legs.

"I've actually never been here," Riley admitted, brushing a stray hair away from his forehead. "My football buddy recommended it."

"Well…you'll have to bring the smack-down if I'm not pleased, then." Buffy grabbed one of the empty water glasses from the table.

"Let me." Riley grabbed the water pitcher and poured her a glass and them himself.

"Thanks."

"Hello and welcome to The Sushi House...can I get you something to…Buffy?"

"Huh?" Buffy's eyes shot toward the waiter standing behind them, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Xander?!" Buffy stood, knocking her head on the ill-fated chandelier.

"Careful, Buff. That's blown glass."

"What is going on?"

"Well…I'm your waiter." Xander pointed to the black apron tied around his waist, decorated with silvery Japanese letters.

"I didn't even know you worked here." Buffy sat back down, rubbing her head gingerly.

"Yeah…I started right after the New Year." Buffy's eyes cast down to her knees.

"I should know this. I'm _so _sorry, Xan. I fell off the face of the planet. I suck. Big-time. But I'm going to make it up to you. From now on, you own me! I am the friend of your beck and call. Short of illegal, x-rated, or anything related to studying, I'm there!"

"Good to know." He handed the pair two hard backed menus. "I'll be back for your order in just a sec. Anya just sent me a text which usually means…"

"Stop right there. TMI."

"Sorry." Xander smiled sheepishly and left the table.

"Wow. I can't believe he's been working here for almost a month and I didn't even know. We've been best friends _forever. _I seriously need to get out more."

"Well, then we can call this date a success, right?" Riley smiled, strategically worming an arm along the back of the couch until his fingers rested on her shoulder.

"Uh, yes. Very much so. Yay, date."

"So, what are you going to order?"

"I'm still pondering." Buffy slid a nail over the extensive sushi list.

"On second thought…_I'll _order. How's that sound?"

"Delightful." Buffy bit her cheek in order to restrain the bitchy comment that was bound to shoot out.

"So, you guys all ready?" Xander had returned with a flushed face.

"Yeah. We'll have an order of the California Rolls, Philly Rolls, Caterpillar Rolls, Spicy Tuna.."

"And some nigiri, please. I'm feeling some yellow fin and red tail. And maybe you could throw in a starter of Edamame?"

"Alrighty." Xander jotted down the order. "We're supposed to say that'll be out shortly, but our sushi chef isn't moving too quick today. I think he's hung-over. So…be prepared to wait."

"Thanks for the heads up." Riley nodded in Xander's direction as he took off.

"So…how is football season going?" Buffy crossed her legs and smiled, hoping she looked mildly interested. She'd learned to 'talk shop' quite effectively during her relationship with Angel.

"We're actually done for the year."

"Oh." Buffy propped her chin on her palm and chewed on her lower lip.

"And, no, I haven't seen Angel." Riley winked and took a sip from his water glass.

"I.." Buffy couldn't think of anything to reply with.

"Its okay, Buffy. I understand. I heard he's back on campus, but I haven't seen him."

"Look, let's _not _talk about that.

"It's a plan. How are you liking your other classes this semester?"

"They're okay. I didn't have to take any math this semester which speaks volumes about what a good semester it'll be."

"I don't like math, either. I'm much more of an English guy."

"I'm much more of a food, pretty pictures, and nice music kind of girl. Hence my interest in art, gourmet cooking, and music appreciation this year."

"I can't blame you for that, can I?"

"Guess not---Ooh! Edamame!" Buffy exclaimed as Xander slid a bowl onto their table.

"I never knew you liked this stuff, Buffy." Xander raised his eyebrows. "I thought leafy greens gave you the wiggins."

"Oh, but they're not leafy…and they're covered in salt, which negates all healthful qualities. Therefore, I like them. Very much!" Buffy popped a bean under her front teeth and slid out the innards, "Delicious!"

"I like the way you think." Xander laughed and walked off.

"You look really cute eating that." Riley said, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"I do?" Buffy said, mouth still full of Edamame. Riley laughed.

"Yes. Even with your mouth full."

"Thanks." Buffy dropped the emptied bean onto her plate.

"Okay guys, here's your sushi!" Xander returned to their table with a tray full of sushi rolls and nigiri.

"Awesome. Thanks man." Riley started serving rolls between he and Buffy's plates. Buffy dug into the rolls as fast as she could.

"I _love _sushi." She grinned and swallowed. Riley nodded and suddenly started to lean in toward her. Buffy could see the kiss coming miles before it did, and her heart stopped. Sure, she was having a good time hanging out with Riley. In the same way she had a good time with Willow, or Xander. But a kiss? His lips landed on hers before she could think of an effective plan to avoid it. It wasn't a _bad _kiss. His lips were soft and smooth, his pressure was just gentle enough. But it felt wrong…like putting on wet clothes after going swimming. Just as Riley was pulling away, someone knocked right into their awkwardly shaped table, sending both of their waters tumbling, soaking Buffy's lap. A few rolls of sushi were compromised in the puddle that ensued.

"What the--?" Buffy's eyes shot up and came in contact with a pair of ice blue ones. Spike was standing just past their table, his combat boots just barely sprinkled in the water he'd knocked over.

"Oops." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"You did that on purpose." Buffy accused, standing up to meet his gaze. Even though she was standing, she still barely reached his chest.

"And if I did?" Spike cocked an eyebrow.

"What are you even doing here?"

"Didn't you know? I'm stalking you." He deadpanned.

"Stop."

"Oh come on, Summers. Get off your high horse. Much to your ego's surprise, I am _not _here for you. I'm on a date." Spike nodded his head across the room where Harmony was sitting on a black leather stool, cramming a hamburger into her mouth.

"She got a _hamburger _at a sushi restaurant?"

"She actually brought it in." Xander said, popping up behind Buffy's chair.

"_Wow. _Classy." Buffy grabbed Spike by the shoulder. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"Gladly." He shrugged her hand away and stalked off in Harmony's direction.

Buffy sank back into her chair, frowning. How _dare _he be so rude to her. It's not like she knew he was going to be at the same place.

"You okay?" Riley looked concerned.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm just….upset we didn't get to finish that kiss."

"Well in that case…" Riley leaned in and kissed her once more, his hand cupping her face. Buffy's eyes flew open as she kissed him, looking over his shoulder. Spike was staring straight at them, hard and angry. She closed her eyes again, satisfied. "That was nice." Riley whispered as he pulled away, running a hand through her curls.

"Yeah." Buffy kissed his cheek and looked over his shoulder. Harmony and Spike were kissing hungrily at their table, his eyes locked on Buffy's the entire time.


End file.
